The Perfect Weapon?
by cailiean44
Summary: Two years after his last mission, Alex is still playing cat and mouse with MI6. Then a mission goes bad and a certain dead assassin comes to rescue him with hopes of training the teen and with ties to a certain Russia, Alex will not go easily, right?
1. Escape or Capture?

**Heya everyone! This is my second fanfic and I'm so excited. I don't know exactly where this one will go yet but I know that my amazing readers will help. This story is also featuring Yassen and Sarov but it's just Alex. NO slash and please don't flame me. **

**Anyway please enjoy and review to tell me what you all think!**

**Disclaimer: What do you think?**

There is a point where time ceases to exist.

The teenage boy made his way down a deserted corridor, the echoes of footsteps minutes behind urging him onward, always onward. There was a chance he would make it. He had to.

His body thirsted for a reprieve, the days of constant pain and torture melting in his mind. Survival was the main concern and no one was going to stop him this time.

The facility in which he had been taken was dull grey in color, the lifeless halls rarely interrupted by sliding electrical doors. No one was in sight and he could almost taste outdoors looming just ahead.

He came upon an intersection, breathing hard and clueless how to proceed. Veering left he came to a cement door with no electronic eye to open automatically when someone gets close. That could mean two things; outdoors, or a room off limits to the nobodies who worked in the underground facility. With no time to waste, he kicked at the old fashioned lock and was rewarded with the door swinging viciously open.

Light accosted the teenager as he stepped out on the grassy floor. A clearing surrounded by forests was in front of him, the blue sky interrupted by pale clouds waltzing across the expanse. He took a long breath and hurried out, heading towards the forest. MI6 had planted a locator in his back but they had not come to his rescue as they always said they would; imagine that.

His body hurt from the beatings he had endured as a captive but he kept on, not daring to stop.

A man emerged from the foliage, his forest greens aiding in his disguise. Alex stopped, wary and angry that it had taken them so little time to find him and that he didn't have the strength to fight.

"Alex Rider?" The man's voice came out as a question though who else would be near an underground SCORPIA facility, bloody and bruised.

"I'll not go back," stated Alex defensively, mustering the last of his endurance. His stoic face portrayed none of his emotions, but his body was becoming uncooperative very fast. He gritted his teeth in determination. He would NOT give up now.

"I'm here to help, Rider," said the man patiently. "But we need to get moving." Alex nodded suspiciously and began striding through the foliage. But the teen spy, Alex Rider, failed to see the hand signals to the men waiting in the bushes and the text message the man sent while his back was turned.

_Mission Accomplished._

ARARARARARARAR

A plane waited on an airfield three miles away. It sat dormant for the moment, the silence in the cabin palpable.

Yassen Gregorovich sat motionless in a padded chair, awaiting the arrival of the package. Two years after his near death experience, the assassin had led SCORPIA to believe in his demise while freelancing under the name of Cossack.

He was unsure why he had agreed to General Alexi Sarov's offer of a job dealing with Alex Rider or why he was allowing the boy to know he was alive. Over the years he had checked up on Alex, his strange bond in his mentor's son unexplainable. He had always prided himself in his ability to quarantine his emotions, eventually not letting himself feel at all.

But Alex was different. He was John Rider's son.

And he was going to be trained to be the best.

A man led a tall blonde teenager out of the forest. None of the other men were visible though Yassen knew they were there. Alex must have made it out on his own.

Yassen could see the cautious movements from the boy, suspicion laced with weariness gracing his features. His body was taunt with pain but his perfect physique was undeniable. Yes, he was definitely the best choice. The only choice.

Dialing a number on his mobile, the assassin heard two rings before a cultured, hard voice interrupted.

"Yes?"

"We're almost ready."

"Injuries?"

"We'll know once he's on board. We should be there in five hours, six at the most."

"Good." The line went dead.

ARARARARARAR

Alex took inventory of where he hurt as the man led him through the forest to a clearing. He knew bruises marred his face and his ribs were black and blue, one possibly broken. Minor abrasions speckled his skin but he could fight if he had to. He could not go back.

A plane stood dormant on a wide runway, the white body devoid of decoration or insignia. The windows were tainted and the man beside him seemed to grow more agitated with every step.

All at once, Alex felt a presence, the forest obscuring any view of the person he knew was there. Alex stopped, earning a confused glance from the man.

"What is it?"

"There's someone out there," stated Alex in a hushed tone, no doubt in his voice.

"Nonsense. Let's go." The man tried to pull Alex by the arm but the teen easily maneuvered out of the man's hold. All pretense left the man as he stood facing Alex squarely. "Get on the plane, Rider." The authority and emotionless voice cued the young spy in on what he had missed; the quiet assurance, stealthy gate, finely toned muscles. The man had to be an agent.

_Or an assassin,_ his mind countered.

He mentally slapped himself for his stupidity. How could he have missed the signs? His blood froze. Was the man SCORPIA?

He had no more time to think for at that moment, twenty men stepped from the surrounding forest, all in camouflage uniforms and carrying semi-automatics. Circling around, they prevented escape, the open lane leading to the plane.

"Who are you," Alex asked with clenched teeth, anger boosting his lagging energy.

"Friends," the man said, "unless you don't cooperate."

"And if I don't," asked Alex obstinately.

"We'll force you."

_No way._

Before anyone was ready, Alex had struck out towards the nearest soldier, his right foot colliding with his sternum. As the others were startled into action, Alex had already thrown one burly man past him, his weight carrying him towards the forest's waiting arms. Arms encircled the teen's torso, trapping his arms to his sides. One soldier walked forward but missed the bunching of Alex's abdominal muscles. The front kick took him completely off guard, knocking him on his back.

An elbow to the stomach and head butt to the chin set Alex free and he surveyed who next to fight.

Just as the soldier in front of him started to close in, a man snuck behind and tackled him to the ground. The air whooshed out of his lungs, dark spots dancing in his eyes. Pain shot from the now fully broken rib and he clenched his teeth to keep from crying out.

As the man bent to pull him to his feet, Alex struggled against the hold but found a gun pressed into his neck. On his feet, his hands were bound in front, a stupid move on their part he thought. Even without the gun in his neck, there were too many to take on by himself; he would bide his time.

The soldiers glanced at him warily, some nursing injuries and one trying to stifle the bleeding from his nose. Inwardly, Alex was grinning at the visible battering these men took because of him but outwardly he could barely put one foot in front of the other.

Breathing was painful. Just gazing at the flight of stairs leading to the open portal of the plane made his side twinge in agony.

Unknowingly or purposefully ignoring his discomfort, the man who first approached him outside the SCORPIA compound prodded Alex forward.

A deep forest green met him as Alex's eyes adjusted to the interior lights. The carpet was a rich green and the seats a stylish beige. Windows lined the luxurious cabin. No one could be seen and only two of the twenty men followed their leader onboard.

"Where are your cronies," asked Alex sarcastically.

More than fed up with Alex by now, the man pushed him forcefully into one of the chairs and buckled him tightly in.

"Wouldn't want you to wander accidentally from the plane, would we?"

Forsaking his bravado, Alex glared hotly at the man. "Who are you with? MI6? SCORPIA?" Alex wanted to know who he was dealing with so as to give him a clue how to proceed.

To the teen's surprise, the man laughed. "All in good time, Rider. All in good time."

Alex angrily yanked at his restraints, his breathing labored from pain but the necessity to escape was choking.

Grinning humorously, the man walked to the men waiting below the stairs and shouted orders to start preparations for take-off. A few moments later, the large door was closed, escape impossible.

_No, I'll just wait. Desperation gets agents killed. _

The revving of engines could be heard and the two men who had followed their leader on board just stood dumbly by the closed portal.

"So, how did you guys find me anyway?" Making conversation seemed the best answer though silence was more his style.

"A friend," was all they said.

"Friends that like to put scorpions in your bedroll and watch when you get in or friends who come over without asking?"

They shrugged. "You'll find out."

Frustration mounted along with his headache that had formed when being tackled in the clearing. If he was going to think of an escape plan, he needed a clear head and the haze of pain was making it impossible.

"Would one of you perhaps have pain killers on you," asked Alex innocently.

Sighing in exasperation, one of the burly men disappeared through a hallway behind Alex.

Moments later, the teen had successfully wriggled out of his bonds and had disarmed the now unconscious guard. During his skirmish, Alex failed to hear the approach of someone from behind until the man spoke.

"Here are your pills," came the voice, clear and familiar. The teen froze; he knew that voice. He shivered in realization of who the deep, slightly accented voice belonged to.

Turning slowly, Alex looked towards the hallway where a familiar face greeted him with a stoic expression of nothingness.

_Crap._

ARARARARARARAR

**Okay, so what do you guys think? Something to keep going on or not? When I get a few reviews and see if this is even a good idea, I'll update, so please just tell me what you guys think so I know if it's worth it. thank you all and God bless!**


	2. Training!

**Okay, so this is chapter 2 and I'm not sure about it. I don't really know where this story is going so if anyone has suggestions, please, please, please, please review and tell me. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: This is **_**fan**_**fiction. What does that say?**

ARARARARARAR

Silence reined in the cabin as Alex stood shocked and taken aback by the assassin's appearance. Seeing as Yassen was very much alive, Alex refrained from saying the obvious, but instead let his anger well up.

"Are you the leader of this mission?" Glaring at the man made Alex feel somewhat more in control and not as helpless.

"Take these," Yassen said, ignoring the teen's question. He stepped forward to hand the pills over, causing Alex to back away.

"I suggest you sit down. We're about to take-off." His voice was calm and completely void of emotion.

"I am not going anywhere. Let me off now or I will fight my way off." The teen was seething now but showed nothing, two years of thinking Yassen was dead and pushing those feelings away surfacing. Feelings of anger, hate, but more importantly, loss, Yassen the last link to his father and who he really was.

Despite those feelings of longing to speak with the Russian, Alex had to get off of this plane, knowing once they started moving, he would never be free. But Yassen did not give him the chance.

The assassin pulled a gun from his back and pointed it at Alex. "Sit down," was all he said, his voice hard and cold.

"You won't kill me; your men could easily have done that in the woods. Why are you keeping me here, Yassen?"

"You're right, I won't kill you. But I won't be defied." With that, a shot rang out in the cabin and Alex surrendered to the darkness closing in.

ARARARARARARAR

Warmth was all he felt at first. The pain had vanished and instead a light-headed feeling of giddiness encumbered him.

Alex listened intently to the room around him for sounds of breathing or movement but found none. Gingerly opening his eyes, he found himself in a richly furnished and equally secure room. Barred windows lined one wall and had electronic levers for which there was no controller.

The door on the opposite side of the room from the queen sized bed had no handle, most likely remote activated or manual form the other side. Two cameras swiveled at his movements, focusing their depthless eyes on him.

Heaving a sigh, the teen stood up on wobbly legs and made his way to another door with a handle leading to the bathroom.

After splashing his face with cold water, Alex appraised his appearance. His face was varying shades of bruises and his clothes were the same from what he had been wearing, dirt and foliage decorating his attire.

Going back into the main room, Alex peripherally studied the cameras. No cords were visible and they looked to be enforced with a form of metal, making them impossible to disconnect. Choosing to just ignore them, Alex made his way to the bedside table where clean clothes rested, a note laying lightly on top.

_Alexi,_

_Please clean up. I will be up to see you shortly._

_The General_

A shiver ran down Alex's spine at the signature. Only one man had called him Alexi and he was a general in Russia. The man had tried to blow up half the world with old nuclear waste and had committed suicide in front of Alex. He had seen him die, hadn't he?

It was too much. First Yassen and now Alexi Sarov?

What did they want from him?

ARARARARARAR

He had retired to the library, anticipation growing with each second. Finally, Alex was in Russia, safe and sound. He had waited two years for this day, starting over after his attempted suicide. Murmansk always brought bitter feelings to the surface but Sarov had been given a new chance, a new life.

After the old board of SCORPIA was executed, Sarov took Julia Rothman's place at its head, trying vainly to persuade Yassen to be his second. He of course refused and simply asked to train Alex instead. Much planning had been done, the facility in which Alex had been 'taken' a planned operation to test and observe the teenage spy. They had needed to see if he still had what it took. He did, of course.

It was all too perfect. Gregorovich sat in an adjacent chair, awaiting the moment when they would go to Alex. He was his usual calm, Sarov noted. But he knew how much this meant to him, too. Alex was the last one they needed, the last link in their chain. For the past year they had trained and killed men to be in the organization. They had who they wanted and believed in their skills. But Alex Rider was the ultimate weapon. Or soon would be.

One of Sarov's servants entered the room and whispered in his ear. The General smiled. It was time.

ARARARARAR

Alex had cleaned up as the note had suggested, deciding to observe what he was up against. Running blindly into a situation would just get him into trouble.

Going over to the windows, he stared through the bars at the snow covered mountains, dusk settling over them like a blanket. Winter would be here soon.

Electronic grating announced the opening of the door, three pairs of footsteps following. Alex knew Sarov would come but was anxious about the other two. Bodyguards? Crowd control?

Fighting to keep control of his racing mind, Alex took a moment before facing the General, his face stoic. Sarov was in the front, his medium build and hard countenance tempered by a small grin. A scar above his left eye was the only evidence of that misty day in Murmansk. Alex remembered that experience all too clearly and shivered unintentionally.

"Alexi, how good to see you up. How was the flight?" The congenial tone was patronizing, his mouth smiling while his eyes remained steely.

"My name is Alex. What do you want," Alex asked as he sized up Sarov's entourage. Yassen stood calmly to the right of the General, his face unreadable. The other man wasn't someone he knew, though his bulk and overbearing persona was a powerful image.

The man stepped forward at Sarov's bidding, walking towards Alex with what appeared to be a watch.

"So rude, Alexi. You'll have to learn to play nice if we are to get along."

"If I'm here long enough," said Alex through clenched teeth, anger at being here against his will and being patronized grating on his last nerve.

"Oh, I don't think that will be a problem," Sarov said, smile no longer in place, a determined, hard in its stead. In his hand was a remote control on which he pushed a button.

"Mr. Kruschev is going to place this watch on your hand. It is water proof, tells time, even directions. It must remain on at all times," Sarov practically purred, his tone menacingly sweet.

"Over my dead body."

"That is not an option, I'm afraid."

Kruschev walked closer, Yassen finally moving in behind. One on one, Alex might have had a chance, but as it was, Yassen was soon holding him still, pinned to the ground while Kruschev slipped the watch on his wrist. It promptly shrunk to fit snuggly on his wrist after Sarov touched the controller once again.

Alex was then made to stand and face Sarov once more. His whole body hurt from his past experiences inside the compound where he was held, his match with the ground doing nothing to ease his discomfort. Alex was determined to escape, aiming all his anger at the madman before him. Defiance seeped from every cell in his body as he faced the man squarely.

"That watch, young Alexi, has two drugs implanted inside; one for emergencies and one for punishment. Every recruit has one for the extent of their training and then it is removed. Depending on your behavior and progress, the watch will come off when Mr. Gregorovich and I believe it's time.

"Now, back to the watch. The first is a sort of tranquilizer that will render you unconscious within 20 seconds and immobilized within 10 seconds. This is for your protection, of course, your escape being quite out of the question.

"The second, I'm sure Mr. Gregorovich will make you very familiar with in your training sessions. The drug will make you very sick and continues for as long as the person with the controller sees fit." He paused and looked directly at Alex. "We have worked too hard to get here and will not hesitate to act should you force our hands. Yassen and I each have a controller to your particular watch; don't make us use it needlessly." His voice returned to his upbeat, patronizing tone. "A specialist has been brought for you and will determine when your training starts. Your….injuries will be taken into account, but your studies will begin tomorrow. Have a good night, Alexi."

Kruschev went to open the door, Yassen and Sarov turning to exit. His head reeling, Alex could only stare. Finally gaining his voice, Alex shouted after them, causing them to stop.

"Training? A specialist?! I'm not staying here!"

Sarov just looked at the boy calmly. "Kruschev will be back to escort you to the specialist." With that the doors slid into place behind him, the mechanical gears locking into place. He had taken no chances with Alex Rider.

Anger welled within him, his mind fighting to find an escape, any escape from this madman. Kruschev was solid and would not take any chances with him, either if he was smart. Biding his time would most likely be the best course of action, though the blood lust against the man and his bosses ached to be released. But instead, he watched the moon begin its journey across the sky.

Sometime later, Kruschev came to escort him to the 'specialist,' two heavily armed men behind the pair. For extra security, the man even tied Alex's hands behind him, grasping the excess rope in strong hands. No escape there.

As they made their way down, Alex concentrated on not crying out, his aching cuts and bruises being pulled with his arms behind him. He couldn't wait to know what it felt like to be healthy.

The lab that Alex was brought into was spacious with more technology than Alex knew existed. Computers and monitors beeped in greeting, their alien whirring causing shivers to crawl up his spine.

Kruschev left him, still bound, in a chair, tying the end of the rope to the steel frame.

A young man shuffled distractedly into the room, his footsteps echoing in soft whispers on the tiles. Alex knew he was just acting, his graceful movements belaying his apparent clumsy and unaware gait. Choosing to avoid the man's eyes until he was ready to strike, Alex shifted in the chair, loosening the bonds that held him. It was really an old trick to hold ones hand apart while they are bound, leaving space in between.

Alex studied the tiles, their smooth surfaces mirroring the lights from above, as he worked his hands free.

Coming closer, the man stopped four feet from his prisoner.

_A few more steps…._

The man came within the teen's range. Before the scientist could react, Alex was up, swinging his right leg around in an arc, his foot connecting painfully with the man's stomach. The wind rushed out of his lungs as Alex tried not to grimace at the pain the move had caused.

The man met Alex's eyes, causing surprise and confusion to cross his face.

The color drained out of Alex as he realized who the 'specialist' happened to be….

**Okay, so I know that was really mean, but I had to end it and it seemed like a good place. Not much action in this chapter but Alex's training and unexpected allies are in the next chapters. Any guesses who the 'specialist' is?**

**Please, please, please, please, please, please review. If I don't receive any, I'll take it as I should stop writing this story….lol. but you never know. If I don't get any reviews I won't know where to go next. Thanks so much to those who reviewed last chapter. It really brightened my day.**

**Cailiean44**


	3. Caught

**Heya everyone! Okay so I had some pretty threatening reviews if I didn't get this up soon so here it is. My other Alex Rider story has been written out for fifty pages from where it is now on paper but this one is going slow. The point is, I don't know exactly where this is going so if anyone has any suggestions, REVIEW or PM me and tell me. **

**Thanks and I hope you like it.**

**P.S.- no one got the specialist right though some were close. Hehehehe**

**Disclaimer: Honestly, Anthony Horowitz stole Alex Rider from ME! (really?)**

ARARARARARAR

"What are you planning for our friend tomorrow, Yassen?" Sarov reclined on his over cushioned couch within his den. Coming in, Yassen quietly shut the door behind him.

"I will have to break him first," relied the assassin, knowing full well that Alex would not give in without a fight. He had planned on that fact. The only way would be to wear him down.

"Alex is a peculiar boy, more unique than he even knows. Just be sure not to permanently….handicap him in any way."

"Of course," supplied the Russian, voice void of emotion even as indignation flared within him.

"And," continued Sarov, oblivious to Yassen's inner thoughts, "I want you to be his only contact besides me, Kruschev, and his specialist. I don't want him interacting with the other operatives yet."

"I agree. What would you like me to focus on?" Yassen knew what he was going to train Alex in but also saw the need for Sarov to be apart in Alex's life, in his eyes at least.

He waved his hand. "That is up to you, Gregorovich. But I want you to be with him every second unless he is in his room. He shouldn't sneeze without you saying 'God Bless You.' Start that tomorrow."

This gave Yassen pause. "Not tonight?"

Sarov smiled. "Let him see what happens when he tries to escape."

ARARARARARARAR

The specialist never looked at him, his eyes prodding and examining the many lacerations and bruises that marred Alex's body. Alex forced himself not to stiffen at his touch and blurt out the many questions that threatened to be unleashed. But a warning from the man advised him not to say anything yet. But he would get it.

After finishing the preliminaries, the specialist untied the piece of rope keeping him to the chair but kept his hands tied, motioning Alex to a side room. It was a small examination room with one chair and an examination table. A cabinet housing a myriad of supplies took up the far wall.

Once the door was shut, Alex exploded. "What the heck are you doing here?"

Ben Daniels, or Fox, just gaped at Alex in return as he untied his hands. "I could ask you the same question."

"What do you mean?" Alex was confused, thinking that Sarov had just wanted him like at Skeleton Key.

"You are inside one of the new SCORPIA training facilities. K-Unit was sent to infiltrate it."

"SCORPIA?" Thinking back, he remembered Sarov mentioning nothing of SCORPIA.

"The executive board was….lacking, so Sarov hired some of his own men to …put them out of commission."

"How many men does he have?"

Ben thought for a moment. "I'd say close to 500 hundred recruits here, more back on Skeleton Key. "

"So why am I here," asked Alex in exasperation.

"Sarov wanted you to join him and Yassen wanted to train you. They worked together and here you are." Ben's sarcasm grounded Alex, his temper cooling until he was once again his calm self. Emotions get people killed.

"Is there any way out," asked Alex, thinking quickly.

"Not with that on," Ben replied, indicating Alex's newest accessory.

"Well, then get the blasted thing off!"

"I can't. Only someone with a remote can unclasp it. But," he said slowly, "I may be able to get you out of range."

"Show me."

ARARARARARAR

The night was cool as he set off for the mountains, listening for any signs of pursuit. Thanks to Ben, who was now tied up in his own lab, he had maneuvered his way out of the compound. Now all he had to do was reach a cave that the SAS had set up in case of emergencies for K-Unit in the mountains. The slosh covered ground and misty fields occupied Alex's mind for an hour, the walk seeming to take longer than he had expected.

Pain laced up his arm as Alex struggled not to cry out. Black crowded at the corner of his vision but he couldn't stop because…why was he walking again?

The pain intensified, fire spreading to engulf his form, hunching him over in agony. No matter what he did, he could not lessen the pain, make it bearable.

On the cold ground, he lay there for long minutes though time seemed to pass by slowly to Alex. And then, it stopped.

Straightening cautiously, Alex lifted his sore body from the ground. He felt like scalding water had been injected in his veins, the pain a throbbing after-affect. Resolutely, he started off once again, taking care to stay invisible.

Ten minutes later, the searing pain laced up his arm in another wave of intenseness he hadn't thought possible. He immediately found himself on the ground, groaning. _What is happening?_

After the pain had receded, Alex knew that someone was there, watching. The pain always started in his arm, his icy gaze taking in the watch Ben couldn't remove. He knew that they were just toying with him, tantalizing him with thoughts of escape and then dashing them in fiery torment.

With a jolt, Alex knew why it had been so easy to escape the compound and why none of the guards seemed as diligent as he would have thought. He had just credited good fortune. But he knew better. He should have seen it. Sarov was playing with him.

He _wanted_ Alex to escape, to show off his fancy toy and teach Alex that his situation was hopeless. And giving him the opportunity to succeed in leaving the compound acted on what Alex had first deemed idle threats.

But if it was the watch that was causing him pain, then either Yassen or Sarov was out in the woods with him. Or it received extremely good range. Sarov wouldn't want his hands to get dirty, literally, Alex concluded, so Yassen must be the ghost behind him.

With much teeth grinding and seething anger, Alex stood to his full height with his hands up. Three men appeared from the foliage, surrounding him in a semicircle. Yassen appeared a moment later, directly in front of Alex.

The assassin held the remote, his finger poised on a green button.

His senses fled as all he could feel was pain. He collapsed on the ground, the three operatives making quick work of securing him.

The wave dissipated as quickly as it had come, leaving the teen breathless and sore. His hands were behind his back, too tight in his opinion and Yassen walked closer.

"This is not a joke."

Alex attempted a snort. "I got that."

The back of Yassen's hand threw Alex into one of the men, his senses jarred from the impact.

"Sarcasm will buy you nothing here, Alex. Just more pain. Remember that in the future."

Alex couldn't resist. "If there is a future."

The remote came into view once more, but Alex didn't feel the pain he had anticipated. No, instead, a cold, numb feeling entrapped him. He was lifted effortlessly by the man who had caught him moments previous and was slung over his shoulder like a large bag of potatoes. He barely registered their jarring run when at last, the feeling of nothingness surrounded him with its sweet kiss.

ARARARARARARAR

Ben wove his way through the various halls of the complex, determination in his stride. After being freed from his lab, which was embarrassing enough, he received a dress-down from Sarov as well. He had felt it was worth it until one recruit had followed Yassen to the kid's room with Alex over his shoulder, unconscious. He knew that it was a test that Alex had had no way of passing. That was what worried him.

The other recruits had a similar watch, but the remote controllers that the instructors possessed worked for anyone and everyone. That Alex had his own was proof enough of the seriousness that encompassed his arrival here. But that they would deliberately let him 'escape' just to teach him a lesson? What was he missing?

Putting aside his troubling thoughts, Ben focused on what needed to be done. The unit needed to know what was going on and that the cave might have been compromised.

Wolf was the first he ran into, his training session in one of the practice gyms just finishing. His face had been as red as Ben had ever seen it when he had filled his unit leader in. He muttered a quick, 'Keep me informed,' and headed to the mess hall where the rest of his class had gone.

Next was Snake, his background in medicine aiding him in his studies of biochemicals. They were in the middle of a highly combustive lab, so Ben was forced to sign to him through the door, signaling that he would brief him later.

Eagle was the hardest to find, his studies constantly off site in the mountains or nearby fields. Explosives were his specialty and he was one of the highest ranking operatives in his class. The room where his class was usually conducted held a sign pointing any parties to Kremlin's field.

Sighing, Ben jogged back to his lab, awaiting the call that was inevitable. He would be asked to check over Agent Rider and be advised, or threatened in plain terms, to be overly cautious. His life would depend on it.

He didn't expect any trouble, but who could know when Alex Rider was involved?

**So there you go. Hopefully now I won't get any more hate mail. Lol. Some people guessed Snake which makes sense but for some reason, I always saw Ben as the specialist. I don't know. I thought that it would be too predictable for the unit to have the jobs they obviously do well. Anyway, like didn't like? Any ideas for the next chapter? I honestly don't know where this is going so any help would be beneficial. **

**Thanks so much!!!!!**

**Cailiean44**


	4. Time to work

**Hey guys, long time, huh? Sorry it has been so long but the last few weeks of school have been so hectic. Well, anyhow, I still am not completely sure where I am going with this but I will try my best to entertain and not disappoint. **

**This is chapter 4! Wow, I didn't know if this story would take but thanks to the many reviews, I am striving to go on. This chapter will start the breakage of Alex, or maybe not…. I guess you'll have to read and find out.**

**Disclaimer: It is called fanfiction for a reason. **

Cold water brought him to awareness as his breath caught in his chest.

"Breathe, Rider," commanded a familiar voice.

Sputtering water and mumbling curses, Alex opened his eyes to the bright sunlight filtering into his prison and a stoic Fox who was attempting to stifle a chuckle.

"Up n at'em, Rider, we have things to do and training to complete." For being early morning, the man was increasingly annoying.

Sullenly, Alex rose from the bed he was lying on and took inventory of his body. He was sore from his brief brawl with the agents last night and his head felt thick with marshmallows but he could still function.

Wordlessly, Fox handed Alex a small bundle and indicated he was to change into the clothes. Five minutes later, the teen was emerging from the bathroom off the main room in loose black cargo pants and form fitting shirt to match.

Though he outwardly looked calm, Alex tried to fight down the feeling of his world spiraling out of his control. As he looked at Fox and noted the grin, he realized that though he appeared to be grinning at Alex's realization, a certain uncertainty lurked in his eyes. He didn't want this for him just as much as Alex hated being held captive. With a single look, Alex knew that Fox was doing what he could to extract him from the base.

Sighing his resignation more for the camera's benefit and whoever was monitoring him as to prepare himself for the day he allowed Fox to pinch and prod him. Yassen was sure to have nasty plans for him. Nasty, indeed.

ARARARARAR

Four armed guards and Fox delivered Alex to a bare room, if it could be called a room. The high ceilinged and concrete floored expanse was as long as a football field and echoed in time with his footsteps. Only one door afforded entrance and exit and that was the door he had come in from. Other than a mat in the middle of the floor, the space was bare.

_What the heck…._ Alex struggled against his bonds, his hands tied behind him with a zip-tie. There were no cameras in sight and no guards. If he could just get out of his bonds, Alex had a chance at freedom, despite the watch. He was sure there was a limit for the range of the cursed thing. Even if there wasn't, he was going to try. He had to. He was not going to be SCORPIA's 'nightmare.'

Almost succeeding in bringing his hands to the front of his body, Alex stopped as the door opened. His back was to the door, but he knew that it was Yassen. The fact that he did not hear the man come up behind him was not surprising but his stomach clenched as he felt hands grip his arms in a painful hold. His bonds fell away and Alex stumbled forward, putting distance between the assassin and himself.

"Time to get to work," stated Yassen coolly.

"Yeah, too bad I'll never work for you." Alex couldn't keep the resentment from tinting his statement, staring at Yassen confrontationally. He didn't want to fight the man but had never been good at stilling his sarcastic comments. His mouth tended to get him into trouble.

Yassen just glanced coldly back. "All in good time."

ARARARARARARAR

Punch, kick, block. Snap kick, upper cut, low block. The rhythm continued on for what seemed like days, the never ending cycle of surviving Yassen's attacks causing Alex's muscles to go into autopilot. He had lost the ability to consciously think of his next move as the assassin demonstrated his prowess, landing Alex on his butt too many times to count.

Not that he wanted to give in and allow the assassin to train him; far from it. He was just too tired and in pain to really care what happens beyond surviving.

After Yassen had come in, he had reverted to the cold killer he was, calling forth Alex's anger with comments of MI6's abuse of the teen, of the stress and the forced missions that he was made to undergo. The list went on and on as his anger rose to the surface.

"_They just used you, nothing but personal gain on their minds." His cool, detached voice drilled into Alex with the intensity of someone who knew how to manipulate thought. But Alex couldn't break, wouldn't let himself._

"_I know what they have done better than anyone; but I won't stoop to your level." Alex repeatedly assured himself that not giving in was right, but the assassin's words touched a part of himself that he didn't dare to delve into._

A punch aimed at his side slipped past his guard, causing him to fall to the ground.

"You can't stand against me, Alex. You are meant to be here, by my side, just as your father trained me."

"You are nothing like my father," spat Alex.

"That may be true outwardly, but our minds were perfectly in tuned with the other. Just like we will be."

"Bite me," mumbled Alex, not willing to give up. The mat was slick with his sweat as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened in the last few days. Yassen never let up, never let him have time alone. He was watched ever moment of the day and it seemed as though he enjoyed making Alex's life miserable. He knew he was trying to break him, completely tear him down so that Yassen could mold him to be whoever he needed Alex to be.

It was fairly easy the first day of 'training' as his resolve was still strong. After three days of endless drills, berating comments, and sleep deprivation, Alex was not so sure he could hold out. He knew he would be lost without Fox, looking him over every day and encouraging Alex to keep with it for just one more day, one more hour. MI6 should have arrived by now, he knew, but he clung to Fox's optimism.

Besides Fox and Yassen, Sarov was his only other visitor, having only seen him once to ask if he was willing to join SCORPIA. Alex had refused, but a touch of the pain from the watch had made him seriously think about accepting.

_How can I be so weak?_ Preparing himself for more 'training,' Alex pulled himself up, facing Yassen once more.

ARARARARAR

**Okay, so I know it is short and it wasn't very good, but I am completely drained. I have no idea what I should focus on. I know the eventual outcome of the story but getting through Alex's 'training' is proving harder than I thought. I NEED suggestions. Please review if you have any ideas. Thanks so much!**

**Cailiean44**


	5. Expressions

**Okay, so I won't waste time with excuses of why I didn't write. The facts are that I didn't and that I am now so I hope that mollifies you somewhat. I am going on with this story in a purely chapter by chapter mindset having no idea where I had originally planned for it to go so if you would like for it to continue, please review with ideas and suggestions. Anything helps. And as I was preparing to write the next chapter I realized that I had submitted only some of the chapter leaving the first page in Microsoft Word. So if you got the message via email that I updated once again, just read the first part and maybe it will make more sense…**

**Disclaimer: When I start to smoke pipes in the evening and smell like peppermint, then I could understand any confusion but until that time I am simply an American girl writing **_**fan**_**fiction. **

Chapter 5

Sunlight seeped into Alex's consciousness, cries of pain from his abused muscles following immediately. It had been a week since he had escaped from his last prison before finding himself in yet another. _How lucky for me,_ he mused.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, knowing that Yassen most likely knew he was awake anyway. The cameras monitoring his every move swiveled with Alex as he went to look out his ceiling high windows. Just as expected, the door to his chamber opened as he took in the rolling mountains iced with snow.

"Good morning, Alex."

Alex said nothing, having learned sarcasm meant punishment but not wanting to give the Russian any encouragement by being polite.

"It is rude to say nothing when spoken to, Alex." Yassen always addressed his apprentice in a detached tone but Alex could hear the warning creeping into his voice.

_I have to make a choice now; join or fight. But I can't give up now if I choose to fight._

Alex knew that Yassen was assessing his mood, testing how far until he broke. Then what? Show him the secret lair? Give him a pat on the back? What happened when Yassen believed that Alex was finally compliant enough to be molded?

_Maybe take off my watch?_

An idea formed in Alex's mind.

ARARARARAR

Alex had never worked so hard in his entire life. His whole body screamed for a reprieve as he sparred with Yassen, but he pressed on, determined to find the precise time in which to announce his defection from MI6. Block after agonizing block, Alex forced himself to stay focused on the task at hand, but he was anxious for his upcoming performance. He would have to be extremely believable or Yassen would see through his charade.

After four hours of sparring and other various physically exhausting activities, Alex was led to a room that served as a classroom for various testing and training in a mental capacity. Not only did he receive refreshers from his time on Malagosta, but he learned that there was a myriad of crap that he was being forced to regurgitate. As Alex took the only desk in the room and the door whisked shut behind him, Yassen began his lesson on behavioral analysis.

"Having the ability to correctly read a person' body language is unequivocal when it comes to field work. Certain words or mannerisms may trigger an emotion or reaction that you need to be able to decipher. Now, I've prepared-" Alex continued to listen half-heartedly, but watched the Russian. Would he take off his watch if Yassen thought Alex loyal to their cause? Could he chance Yassen not doing that and Alex appearing a traitor? There had to be some way to get the wretched thing off without swearing allegiance to Sarov and SCORPIA.

"Are you listening, Alex?" Yassen's sharp tone cut off the boy's thoughts, effectively leaving him in the same predicament he found himself in moments before.

"Everyone shows glimpses of the same universal expressions; anger, joy, fear. They all appear the same no matter the continent." _Word for Word._

"And who created this theory?"

"Micro expressions were observed and recorded by a man named Paul Ekman." Alex sighed as if bored. "Anything else?"

"Fine, since you are so skilled in reading your fellow humans, let's take a test."Alex's stomach clenched at the sight of Yassen's tight lipped grin. "SCORPIA just created a new training toy and I'm sure you will be the perfect guinea pig. Just a warning." His eyes turned cold. "You know what failure brings."

Nodding once, Alex rose from his chair after being motioned towards the door. A week of seeing no one in the halls, Alex knew they had some sort of system that demanded everyone desert the hallway whenever he was to use them. Alex supposed it had something to do with trying to break him but he had never broached the subject. Maybe being friendlier with Yassen would make his defection more believable?

"Why has Sarov kept me from any contact besides a select few when there are hundreds of recruits?" Alex tried to sound bored but add some timidity in his voice as well, trying to sell it as best he could.

Glancing at him quizzically, Yassen did not punish him for his inquiry. "Why so chatty, Alex?"

"Do you think the recruits will corrupt my training, hinder my potential?" Yassen's face remained stoic. "Or is it something else? Will they help me escape?"

Alex found himself against the wall, Yassen's forearm pressing painfully against his throat, his feet dangling off the floor.

"I am here for one purpose. To train you. I will do my job no matter how hard you believe you are making it. Being kept apart was for your safety as much as for your training. I'm here to empower you and help you see your potential. You are still oblivious to the bigger picture here." With that, he let Alex collapse on the ground, his eyes still hard, mouth in a straight line.

"You think by torturing me and holding me here, it is empowering me?" Alex let the sarcasm drip from his words, knowing any hopes for acting as if he had been broken any time soon were gone. But he couldn't keep himself from goading the Russian, frustration from his imprisonment overtaking his need for caution.

Yassen did not answer, but motioned for Alex to stand, his face expressionless once again. There was no way for Alex to tell if he had hit a nerve or merely angered his captor but he didn't want to stop since he was already started.

"I will find a way out. Someone will help me and when I do, I will disappear and MI6 and SCORPIA will never find me. You've given me many skills and I plan to use them to defeat you." By the end, Alex was glaring, chest heaving with pent up anger. At MI6, SCORPIA, his father.

Yassen said nothing, only motioned once again for Alex to rise. The teen thought briefly about refusing but decided against it, not wanting to seem any more of a child than he already had.

The assassin stalked gracefully behind Alex as he wondered what new toy SCORPIA had invented and what kind of destruction it would create. But his mind did not stay there long. He found himself pondering Yassen's curious reactions to his statements. A mention of escape had thrown him into a defensive and highly volatile state but when a threat to do just that was given, nothing. No anger, no tight lipped smile that said it was an impossible feat. Just nothingness.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Alex concentrated on how to make contact with the recruits. Yassen watched him like a hawk and spent every waking moment either with him or monitoring his movements. The only time he was not privy to Alex's actions was in Fox's presence, Fox having told him bluntly that there was such thing as doctor-client privilege and he would be thorough in his notes and reports. But he and Yassen both knew Alex would not be forthcoming if the assassin was in the room with him. So he had acquiesced though not without threatening to break every bone in Fox's body without killing him if he ever spoke to Yassen in that tone again. But Alex was free for at least half-an-hour during these sessions, sometimes more depending on what activities they had focused on and how extensively Yassen had beaten him without any exertion on his part. But it was in that time he would be able to plan. He would strategize with Fox during his sessions and then somehow escape the lab like the first day. Then-

A hand on his shoulder halted his steps, as Yassen swiped a key card activating the door. It swung inward without a sound, the darkness enveloping his senses as soon as Alex stepped through the door. Yassen kept his hand on his apprentice's shoulder as if Alex's speech of escape would occur any second. Synthetic lighting flickered on, revealing a solid white room with an examination chair stationed like an instrument of torture in the center. A single door led out of the room opposite the one they had entered through, a one way mirror lining the same wall. This was an observation room of some sort.

"Sit down." Yassen's voice rang around the small chamber.

Alex hesitated. Sighing in frustration, Yassen shoved the boy in the back, pitching him towards the contraption. Alex jumped up, turning to face Yassen but was blindsided by the man's fist. Falling once again, he was hoisted up by the arms and positioned on the chair, struggling all the while.

It happened in less than a moment. Pain shot up his arm, radiating to his shoulder and spreading to his whole body, causing his struggles to cease. Yassen wasted no time using his pain to restrain Alex with the arm and ankle shackles attached to the chair. Dropping the remote into his pocket, Yassen watched as Alex focused in on what had transpired while his captor had elicited the pain in his watch. Tugging uselessly at the restraints, Alex glared hotly at the assassin.

"This will not be a painful exercise, Alex, unless you refuse to cooperate again. We will start in a moment." Yassen opened the door to the room behind the one way mirror, lost to Alex's sight. Alex felt apprehension creep across from his inability to see where Yassen was.

A noise caught his attention as he sat waiting for Yassen to start whatever test he would be forced to endure. A man walked in, mid-twenties, light brown hair, blue eyes widening as he took in Alex tied to the chair.

"Oh, sorry-"

"No, wait," whispered Alex earnestly, his eyes betraying the urgency in his voice.

"What-" The man's voice carried and Alex was sure Yassen would walk in.

"Shh! Help me out of this chair." Alex didn't want to beg but couldn't keep the plea from affecting his usually even tone.

"I don't know. What are you here for?"

"My name is-" Alex felt his air passage close as a vise-like grip closed around his throat, effectively cutting off any speech and any hope Alex had entertained.

"That will be all, Grant." The man nodded hurriedly at the sight of Yassen, but still gazing with a confused expression towards Alex. The door slid shut and Yassen released his grip on Alex's throat. "Better luck next time, Alex." Yassen disappeared once again from view, but his voice was still close as he apprised Alex of what was transpiring. "This test will determine how affluent you are in reading body language. This helmet," he placed a bulky contraption over Alex's eyes, causing him to stiffen in response, "will be how you take the test." He stopped talking once again, as if adjusting something behind Alex, then he was in front of him. "I will be in that room watching your progress."

Sneering, Alex faced where he thought Yassen was. "Are you going to show me pictures and have me guess what I see?"

He was rewarded with a low chuckle, causing his sneer to fade.

Within moments of no movement, unease curdled once again in his middle but was replaced by fear as a high pitched humming sounded in his ear. Then he was thrust into a brightly lit vision of a London square.

_Women in winter coats waltzed past with their chins up, men rushing by on their mobiles. Cars whizzed by on the street, various models and colors passing in a crawl, the afternoon rush. The sun was hidden by clouds, their grey bodies threatening to disperse what they held so tightly. _

_Alex tried to ascertain where he was but could not make out any exact logos of the myriad shops alongside the street, people filing by him as if he was no one. _

_One lady in particular was engrossed in texting on her phone, her face set in concentration, failing to see Alex as she walked down the street. She strolled right into the teen, her voice barely above a whisper as she apologized. _

What an odd vision,_ thought Alex as he tried vainly to remember if Yassen had actually told him what his objective was in this test. It seemed to be just another day in London society if he hadn't known better, but he had no idea how he was to _pass_ this test._

"_Excuse me?"_

_The voice pulled Alex from his thoughts, the young spy taking in a middle aged man who had attempted to appear presentable but still smelled of the streets. But choosing to be polite, Alex turned and gave a small smile of encouragement._

"_Yes?"_

"_I was wondering if you could help me find my daughter. She was right here and now I can't seem to find her…" The man seemed genuinely distressed until Alex gazed into his eyes. His eyes were dilated and the man had done a half shoulder shrug, basically screaming liar. _Aha…

"_I'm sorry, sir, but I am in an extremely tight bind right now, but good luck. I'm sure she hasn't gone far." With that, Alex turned to walk away, understanding and awe for this project overcoming him. This was amazing and it was his job to determine who was telling the truth or trying to deceive him in those situations. _

_Some time passed and Alex found himself in a park, children playing football in a field adjacent to a playground. He found himself drawn to the swings, few parents and their young ones out with the clouds about to let go of their wares. But one woman pushed her son gaily, his laughter ringing softly across the yard. _

_Almost against his will, Alex felt himself walk towards her, his feet propelled by some unseen force. When he was directly in front of the pair, the woman peered up but had no fear in her eyes. "Hello."_

"''_Ello." Her accent was thick, her brown hair curly unruly around her head as the wind whipped in about. _

"_It's about to rain," stated Alex, not sure what was supposed to happen at this juncture. _

"_I suppose," she replied calmly, unfazed by Alex and by the daunting rain clouds. "Are you alone?"_

_Alex looked about, half-expecting to see Crawley with his white dog walking briskly in the background. But there was no Crawley, no Tom or Sabina, no one from his old life. He was alone._

"_Yes." He heard the sadness that emanated from his comment but could not stem the overpowering emotion of abandonment he was feeling. All he wanted to feel was a part of something bigger than himself, right? Isn't that what Yassen was offering him?_

This test is rigged,_ thought Alex sourly. _

"_We are alone too. My husband was just lost in the war." Alex watched her expression, the muscles around her eyes following suit in what real sorrow would look like, her brow furrowed as she recalled the sadness most likely. _

"_I'm sorry for your loss," said Alex, his voice ringing with sincerity. "How long ago?"_

"_Oh, it was four months ago." It was matter-of-fact, no emotion. But something in her face said it had been longer than that, a festering wound. Her sorrow seemed to be years long, not months._

"_You don't believe that," stated Alex. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling she would know what he meant. Her face contorted as her mask crumpled, tears streaming down her face. _

"_He was gone so much, he never ev'n made it to one birthday party for our son past his fifth." She had to pause in order to calm herself. Alex thought maybe her husband had been a spy like his uncle or even in the SAS. Either job strained the family. _

"_He was gone way befor' he set foot in that war zone." She swiped at a tear that had escaped. "Well, sorry, but I do have to be goin.' Good day to you." She pulled her son from the swing and strolled from the park, her plain yellow dress swishing as she walked. Alex felt the sting of loss in his own life so acutely it was as if it was recent. He would have to remember to ask Yassen about the emotional responses that had been evoked throughout this process. _

_He went through various other tests that left him drained and tired. He was only wrong once but he corrected himself in time to not have any bodily harm come to his dream person or whatever virtual reality form he was forced to endure. _

_The world around him turned fuzzy as he felt himself being pulled back into reality._

He felt Yassen pull the glasses off his head, the mechanical whirring of the machines shutting off.

"Did you enjoy the pictures, Alex?" Before he could answer, Yassen had the remote out, Alex expecting the pain to engulf him at any moment. But he only felt his muscles relax, as all the fight drained out of him. Yassen had activated the other drug.

Before he could protest, Alex found himself in a blackness the swallowed him completely, taking him to a peaceful oblivion.

**Okay, so that test was more of a last minute thought and I had no idea how you readers would enjoy it but there it is. There will be more K-Unit and Sarov action next chapter, probably mostly other characters than Alex. Still trying to find where I'm going with this so if you want this to continue, review please!!!!!**

**Cailiean44**


	6. Why?

**Here I am again. Well, I'm not abandoning ship yet but I have no idea where this is going or if it will ever end so, just stick with me. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'm really bad about getting back to people who review unless they have a blatant question that I can answer without giving away some of the story but I appreciate them so much! They are what keep me going. Hint hint. **

**Okay, so on with the story. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own AR in any way shape or form but if someone remotely like him is out there I call dibs.**

Chapter 6

Wolf was jogging to his next class when he spotted Fox in a deserted hallway motioning for him to follow. The two men walked briskly through the pristinely white hallways, their steps echoing with each footfall. Other recruits passed without as much as a glance in their direction, making it easy for them to remain inconspicuous as they formulated a way to extract Cub.

"What happened yesterday? Grant told the guys at lunch about a boy strapped in the arcade room." Wolf glimpsed anger in his friend's eyes before once again watching the floor. Fox started to answer but paused as two men passed by them, too engaged in their conversation to notice them.

"Yassen was experimenting with the virtual lab in an effort to 'train' Alex in micro expressions and body language. He was there for more than the prescribed time." Wolf knew that Fox was extremely protective when it came to this kid and could hear the concern laced in his words. But they could not dwell on what was being done if they were to ever have a chance at breaking him out of the compound.

"We have to focus, here. Are there any ways out of the compound that we could sneak him away in the night? Any underground sewage drains or passages? There has to be something." Wolf felt the frustration rise, especially since their first attempt to save Alex had resulted in a planned recapture. Obviously, Sarov and Yassen knew Alex's tricks.

"He is under guard at all times; the only time he is not is in the lab with me or in his rooms that are completely airtight. The only thing would be to slip him something in my lab but that is risky and Yassen is smart enough to find it. If that happens then my cover is blown." His feet propelled him down the hallway with Wolf on his left, trying to think amongst the multitude of thoughts bombarding his mind. He slowed, causing Wolf to glance over in confusion. "What if," he began, "he was with the recruits? If I told Gregorovich that Alex needs to be around other people or he is going to snap, there might be a chance for the unit to have contact, maybe even be a training partner for him."

Wolf grinned his signature smirk. "Well, done, doctor, I think we have a plan."

ARARARARARARAR

Yassen strode into the dimly lit library, his meeting with Sarov completely unexpected. Alex was not completely broken yet and he was not to give another report until the next day. Alex would come to their side; it was inevitable. Between the constant isolation and his own continuous presence, Alex would soon wish to end his predicament.

Sarov sat sipping amber liquid from a glass goblet, his body turned to stare out onto the jagged mountain range. The rugged beauty was breathtaking but Yassen did not waste time on the view; he had a teenager to break.

"You wished to speak to me?" The bleak tone bespoke his dislike of this impromptu meeting.

"Yes," the man said simply, receiving a glare from the other man. He was not here to play games and wanted nothing more than to get this over with.

"And," prompted the assassin, his voice betraying his annoyance.

"Alex's specialist would like for us to incorporate the boy into the training of the other recruits. I wanted to propose his suggestion to you, his exact words being 'he will snap if he is kept away from other people much longer.'" The man swirled his drink, still facing the window.

"Are you ordering me to go along with his proposition? Because if not, I have business that needs my attention." Yassen turned to walk out the door when Sarov's voice stopped him.

"The leak might come to light if he were allowed contact." They both knew of the potential of MI6 or other agencies planting operatives in their compound and had suspected various members of such activities. If Alex knew anyone in the compound….

"They might try to help him escape," warned Yassen though he knew their attempts would be in vain. Alex would be the best operative they ever trained, just like his father. There was no way that he would allow some rival agents to escape with Alex. It was virtually impossible anyway.

"You might help him escape for all I know," countered Sarov, turning to glance at Yassen. "The point isn't _if _he tries to escape; we know with this new freedom he will do anything he can to leave. But finding any holes in our ranks and leading Alex to believe there is a chance at escape could be the break we need." Sarov placed his glass on the large mahogany desk before turning fully to look Yassen in the eyes. "You are his trainer; you decide what you do with the boy. But if he has a breakdown or becomes somehow useless to me and my cause, you will be to blame." With that, the director of SCORPIA stole from the room, leaving Yassen to ponder his choices.

The man knew he could still keep an eye on his charge should he choose to allow him contact with other recruits. Besides, he could calibrate a new watch and be Alex's shadow. Despite his unease with this new strategy, he knew it could lead to any contacts Alex knew within the compound. Yes, the risk was definitely worth it.

ARARARARARAR

Alex strode from his quarters with a stoic Yassen following, the new watch on his arm tight. He had been told he was eating in the mess, completely surprising Alex. But he had no idea if this was a trap or if having human contact just fit the assassin's whim. He had already been briefed that he was to answer to Alex but was not to reveal his last name. He was to keep him mouth shut unless answering a question but even then he was to avoid any personal inquiries. Yassen did not want him to let the group know that he had been kidnapped, tortured, and forced to train in the compound, though Alex doubted the men would care. They were training to be killers.

There could be other reasons that he was being integrated into the normal routine but Alex had no time to ponder as he was prodded down the hallway. Neither spoke for a time, though Alex itched to question the motives for the sudden change in heart. One moment he was a secret, the next, he was rubbing elbows with the recruits.

After a few more moments of silence, Alex turned to glance back at the assassin. "Why are you doing this?"

One eyebrow rose with the question but he said nothing. To illustrate that he wanted answers, Alex stopped walking and faced the man squarely. "Why?"

"Why what, Alex? Why you were brought here? You already know the answer. Why you are being trained? Again, the answer is not a secret. Why am I training you? That is," he paused searching for the words but seemed to find none, "none of your business."

He motioned for Alex to continue, but the teen just stood there, glaring hotly at the man in front of him. "Why are you letting me train with the recruits, Yassen? It certainly wasn't your idea."

"You are right." Alex blinked, surprised. "Your specialist took his concerns to Sarov about contact with other trainees and he in turn passed them on."

"So you are saying that there is no hidden meaning, no reasons besides my health?" Dubious as he was, Alex could find no traces of lying in Yassen's face, though the man did make it a habit of lying convincingly to people.

"I think you will find, Alex, that when you are given a gift, it is rude to question its intent."

"In my world, it is never harmful to question the intentions of others," Alex retorted, realizing now, that there had to be another reason for Yassen's new angle of training. Deciding that eating with the trainees might be a trap of some kind, Alex drug his feet as Yassen propelled him down the hallway once more. "I'm not very hungry."

"I would not pass on a meal, Alex. It tends to weaken ones resolve."

"I want to go back to my room," Alex persisted.

"No," was the man's only response.

They continued on in silence until they came to two wide double doors. Deafening noise was Alex's indication that they had arrived, try as he might to turn around. Yassen had a death grip on his arm, removing any thoughts of turning back. He had to face this.

"The trays are to your left." Yassen let go of his arm and made no move to enter into the noisy environment.

"Aren't you coming?" asked Alex. He had not necessarily liked the assassin's constant presence but he felt safe compared to what he was about to do on his own.

"Are you not tired of my company?" the assassin asked, his knowing look saving Alex from answering.

Grumbling angrily, Alex took a tray and made his way through the line behind a burly man. He was at least a foot taller than the teen and had to weigh at least 250 pounds of pure muscle. Alex had no intention of starting trouble with anyone but he did not think that the man would be the ally he was looking for. Taking a glance at the door he had entered in, he spied Yassen resting against the frame, completely relaxed and not going anywhere. Sighing, Alex shuffled in line as it moved closer to the front.

Jostled from behind, Alex turned to stare into the recruit's eyes who had found him in the simulator room.

"Turn around and act like you didn't see me." Alex did as he was told, unknowing of what would happen next. A few moments later, he heard the man's voice again, close to his ear. "My name is Grant. Don't turn around, just keep walking. You were the one in the chair, weren't you?" Alex nodded slightly, having a feeling the trainee behind him was trying to save him from Yassen and was not a threat; at least not yet.

"Yassen has taken a special interest in you. He usually only interacts with the recruits during various simulations and to calibrate tests for us." The voice paused as if in thought. "How old are you, kid?"

"Sixteen." Alex had tried to speak quietly enough not to draw looks but also allow the man to hear him. It seemed he did as the man went on.

"You sign up for this or something?"

Alex was not sure how to respond, especially with Yassen so close by and having the uncanny ability to find out when Alex has done something against his rules. But the man did not seem like one who would run to Yassen with his betrayal, though Alex could tell he was afraid of the assassin. His voice held a note of awe and fear when he had spoken of him.

Obviously Alex did not answer quickly enough because Grant continued. "Are you his son?"

Alex momentarily forgot himself as he turned to scowl at Grant. "No, I am-"

"Hello, Grant, may I step in here?" Yassen's cold voice penetrated both their awareness's, as the man slipped in between Grant and Alex. Whispering for Alex's ears only, Yassen's calm demeanor dropped. "Obviously I cannot leave you alone for very long, Alex." Subtle but throbbing pain erupted up his arm, not enough to cause him to cry out but enough to make him uncomfortable. "You have one more chance and then you go back to being isolated."

Fighting against the pain Alex glared at him. "I wasn't doing anything-"

"Before you lie further, I want to remind you that I can read lips." He purposely did not mention the listening device he had implanted in Alex's new watch as well.

The fierceness of his glare did not lessen but instead grew in intensity, but Alex did not continue on in his ruse. Yassen knew him too well to think he would just choose to not tell Grant about himself when he had a chance at making an ally. Alex couldn't blame Yassen for doing his job irritatingly well.

ARARARARARAR

Dinner was uneventful due to Yassen's presence at his side. No one around them would even look at him twice, the icy countenance of the assassin keeping their jokes at bay. He was by far the youngest one there and the only one who looked like he had run through a thorn patch and fallen continuously on his face. He knew that the sparring with Yassen had left marks but by the looks he received, it was worse than he had thought.

The trainees split into teams after dinner, Alex joined with delta team made up of six rough looking men per Yassen's instructions. They were all over 230 pounds of muscle, their clean jaws and cold eyes making them more than a little intimidating. He was forced to walk to their first class surrounded by them, one arm held by what seemed to be the unquestioned leader. The group itself was not unsettling as much as one particular group member. His dark eyes and features gave him a dangerous look though he was the slightest of them all. And Alex knew him by Wolf.

He never received a glance or a nod in way that the man recognized him but there was no doubt that Wolf was on this team. Somehow, that gave him some hope though what the man could do surrounded by five burly men just as large and dangerous as himself was relatively nothing. At least Yassen had deserted him to take care of what Alex presumed to be important business; that in itself gave him courage. But for Yassen to leave him alone with these men, they must have been forewarned and threatened, making them all, except Wolf, completely oblivious to Alex's plight.

They arrived at an unassuming door, the wood grain dull with years of use. One of the men opened the door, the man currently holding Alex's arm never losing his grip. Where Alex found himself at first made his heart leap with expectation but was dashed cruelly as he noticed it was not as it seemed. Grass flattened under his feet, the men pulling him into what appeared to be a large clearing. With further inspection however, it was real grass and trees but the ceiling was painted; it was an indoor room. Majestic mountains mocked the beauty outside the compound and the forests seemed to lack the life that thrived so abundantly outside these walls. It was a cruel deed, Yassen choosing for Alex to visit a room that appeared to offer freedom but yet turned out to be a joke.

Once the door was remotely shut, the man holding him released his arm. The rest of the men circled him, appraising him with cold eyes.

"We were told we would be escorting a brat to our classes from now on. We have real code names, not crap like yours," he growled, pointing at the back of Alex's shirt. "If you earn it, we will give you a name but for now you will be called Runt. I am Zeus, you don't need to know their names. You most likely won't be here long enough to have the guts to use them." He smiled, but it was more of a dangerous warning, no friendliness coming from his person. The men all seemed to take their cues from him, looking at Alex like he was nothing but trouble. None were as formidable as Wolf, though.

The group walked towards a tanned muscled man in the middle of the clearing, various boxes littering the ground beside him. Upon closer inspection, Alex realized that is was Eagle. He tried to keep the surprise from showing on his face, as Eagle had, and stared intently at his own shoes to keep from giving away his emotions.

"What do we have here, boys? A new lacky who thinks he can make it as an assassin?"

"He's our new runt," said Zeus, his eyes giving away his displeasure with this assignment.

"Well I hope our runt likes explosions," stated Eagle, a sadistic smile on his face.

"I'm sure he will adjust." The men's smiles grew, though Alex noted their expressions did not speak well of his fate. With that, Zeus stepped towards Eagle, discussing the drill today while the rest of the team either looked conspicuously away from Alex or leveled him with cold eyes. Finally, Wolf broke the tense silence.

"C'mon boys, we have work to do."

**Wow, that was not my best work by a long shot…not much action at all. I'm not going to focus on training but more on his development in attitude and in the recreational aspects. Well, I hope you all liked it though it has been a long time coming. Please review and tell me what you want in the story. I have a few ideas but nothing substantial for the long run or even the next chapter. So, on that note….**

**Cailiean44**


	7. The Almost Escape

**Hey everyone! I can't believe how many reviews I received for the last chapter! I know that is cliché for authors to write that but it reminded me how much I miss fanfiction…. So on that note, I believe that you all have earned another chapter (Hurray!) **

**Disclaimer: The offer still stands for anyone who is remotely like Alex Rider…anyone at all….oh well if I owned him I would be complete so it's safe to say he is still Anthony's character, as well as everyone else from his marvelous books.**

**Chapter 7**

"He has refused our offer again?" Sarov's pleasant expression turned to one of anger as he regarded the assassin in front of his desk. "You obviously have not pushed him hard enough."

Yassen felt indignation well up at the thought that he was not doing his job. "I have pushed him as far as I could without breaking him per your orders," he replied dangerously, his face stony and void of the rage in his voice.

"You have failed in the one task I had entrusted to you. We still have no idea who Alex's contact is and he is completely uncooperative. "

The man accused smiled humorlessly back. "Alex was not as stealthy as he believed when conversing with his contact. They in turn showed their hand in contacting an MI6 operative in Magadan." The man strode smugly to the window to stand beside the general, his self-satisfied expression unusual for his normal countenance. Sarov just glared at the man, angry at the fact he had not been informed of this before.

"When were you going to tell me of this development, friend?" His voice was dangerous and his eyes sparked with rage.

"I was merely awaiting something more substantial to surface before bringing this to your attention. As I said, they were careful but not careful enough to avoid attracting my attention. Alex may feel like he has more independence but I know exactly where he is and with whom at all times. There was no chance he could escape."

"That was not the point!" The large Russian pounded his fist on the table, his face cherry red. "This was not something to keep from me, Yassen."

Though he did not appear to be taken aback by the man's outburst, the assassin did not think it was that serious. No harm had been done and he knew he had done what he knew needed to be done. Sarov had no voice when it came to his decisions.

The man did not reply to the apparent reprimand, but instead listened as the general continued. "I am going to remove him from your care effective immediately. I will appoint someone else to monitor him and rely on his unit to ensure his cooperation. You will be transferred to the other base near Okhotsk. That will be all." Sarov turned to walk to his desk but halted as Yassen spoke.

"No." His voice was firm and confident. "If you put this course of action into practice, I will be miles away with Alex in tow before you can stop me. It will be an easy enough task to get away as you know." Yassen did not smile or show any sort of triumph but he knew he had won. His own plans for Alex needed to be completed, the assassin planning on utilizing his unique talents for his own gain. No, he would not allow Sarov to ship him off without Alex; the boy had too many things to accomplish before he was ready.

The general's look was calculating, knowing full well Yassen intended to carry out his threat and knowing he would succeed. There was nothing in his power that would stop the assassin from taking Alex aside from killing the man. But he still needed him to carry out his own plans, no one having the experience or talent to sculpt Alex into the weapon he needed.

"You will remain here," he replied finally. "But, only under one condition."

"I do not play your games, Sarov."

"I'm sure you will like this one."

The assassin just raised his eyebrows, signaling that he would hear the man out. "He needs to be tried, put in the field so that he sees his potential. The thrill of the hunt, a successful kill, that is what he needs to feel." Sarov gazed thoughtfully out the window. "Take him to the city and take out Mr. Nanchung. The Triad member has been begging at our doors too long." Yassen turned to leave and prepare for a mission he knew would fail but was halted by the general's voice. "Don't tell him about Nanchung's Triad affiliation; fill his mind with the most despicable things you can imagine which I am positive you can manage. Push him to the edge. Then we will see if he is ready." With a nod, the man strolled from the library.

Alex could, would be the best but he did not believe the boy was ready to murder. He still held onto thoughts of morality. But the test will determine where he is. Yassen did not know which ending he hoped occurred.

ARARARARARARAR

He was pushing himself, hoping vainly to win some minute feelings of respect with Delta team. To this point, K-Units' leader had yet to make contact after a week of training. The teen figured that the harder he tried, the more likely he was to gain some respect. As of that moment, he was wrong.

Explosives, reconnaissance, stealth, poisons, even linguistics; he was never good enough for them. He had briefly contemplated just not trying but he knew it would only end in consequences not in his favor. Pain or isolation.

He knew what they were doing, pushing him in order to make him into something extraordinary, or so they thought. He did not want to become a weapon, something they would use with no regard to his personal being, but what choice did he have? Class after class, he was asked to let go of himself to a new level, learning things that he had no intention of using and yet found himself being forced into that role.

Presently, he turned his gaze to the ground as his teammates taunted and jeered at him. Above them all, Zeus could be heard, his booming voice echoing off of the mountain face in which he was attempting to free climb.

"Runt, hurry it up. Quite daydreaming and get up that mountain."

Earlier, Alex had been led to this domed room not unlike the first one he had entered with Delta Unit. The ceiling was painted to imitate the sky, a magnificent mountain range circling the room in purple and green majesty. The imitations, however, could not compare to the range the teen stared after out his window every morning nor the sky despite the close representation.

His fingers found a handhold, his feet scrambling for any leverage. His fingers were sweating, threatening to slip from their hold, though a shrub plant was within his reach. He had learned early on that the plants were convincing fakes, any pressure sending them spiraling to the ground. It was a cruel trick but something that he should have expected.

Almost losing his hold, Alex took a quick breath, exhaling loudly as he found a safe notch. The teen was not afraid of heights, per say, but climbing without any safety gear and with no assurance on the ground besides a slim net that was to catch him should he fall did not put his mind at ease. No matter what he was trying to prove, it was not worth him dying to do it.

"C'mon, Runt, we need to get to lunch today." Zeus' endless cackling was starting to annoy him, but he pushed on, knowing if he stopped not only would he be ridiculed but the chance that he would be given back to Yassen went without saying. When threats needed to be issued, Delta Unit did not have to come up with anything original; Yassen was the ultimate motivator.

As he climbed higher, the boy went from one gash in the rock to the next, hoping that his unit did not use the watch remote that Yassen had so graciously given them.

ARARARARARARARARARARAR

The quaint pub's door opened with a slight twinge, the smoke filled air bitter to his nose. Grimy floor and walls met him as he strolled to a table in the far corner, an exit close by with a view of the whole establishment.

Lin Nanchung sat with his back to the wall, the table at which he was occupying having an equally good view of the patrons drowning their sorrows in vodka and whiskey or a mixture of both. It was early, only one o'clock, the usual customers still at work or sleeping off the previous night's fun.

The Triad member gazed briefly at the man as he took his seat, his eyes going back to the glass in front of him as he rubbed the condensation off the outside. Despite the rumors of carefulness, Nanchung obviously was off his game.

Yassen Gregorovich ordered one shot of vodka, indulging in one small bit of revelry, his job in no danger of being compromised from one drink. Growing up in the slums of Russia had its advantages.

Another man entered the pub, his burly form shielding the room from the light behind him. His shoulders touched the doorframe and his clothing reminded the assassin of a shadow, exactly what he needed.

"Prevet," the man grunted as he sat across from Yassen. His deep baritone did not carry to the others, the pub safe to speak freely.

The blond nodded his sentiment, conspicuously looking anywhere but at the man.

"You said you had a mission for me, old friend."

"Indeed." Cold blue eyes studied the hulk across the table, a small amount of trust the only reason for this meeting. Trust was hard to come by in his profession but it helped to keep some people who did not want you dead close by. He swirled his shot before throwing it down with ease, his throat burning with a familiar and comforting heat. "It concerns a certain boy."

ARARARARARARAR

Alex could not believe what Zeus was saying, his mind caught on one phrase. _Time for your first mission…_ He wasn't ready, would never be ready to kill for hire like Yassen. He would never recover from the empty look or the blood seeping languidly from the bullet wound. He could never get used to that life.

His team leader had led him to a room packed with weaponry of every kind; bombs, guns, anti-tank weapons, grenades. Crates and wooden boxes of every length and size lined the walls as well as created a maze on the floor. There were gadgets that the teen could not even name as well as things that made his blood cold. There were poisons on shelves lining the room and other chemicals in a secured freezer.

"Don't touch anything or your mission will end before it has begun." He knew the threat was idle but he also knew for a fact that Zeus would not balk at roughing him up. He had certainly learned that the hard way. Despite the large protective umbrella that Yassen held over his head, it did not extend to 'training' him by force.

Delta's leader headed straight for a box in the far corner, the lid askew. "Your stuff is all ready for you, courtesy of your favorite assassin." His smile was humorless as he threw the contents of the box at Alex. Black shirt and pants, black backpack with a small first aid bad in case it was needed, cell phone with one preprogrammed number, and a handset to keep in touch without having to hold the phone in his hand all appeared from the box.

"I can't take this stuff," the teen said decisively. Zeus just laughed in response.

"I'm sure you know you have no choice in the matter. Take your gear and the boss man will brief you. Good luck tomorrow." With that statement he motioned Alex to leave the room, the door shutting and locking itself electronically.

"Take him to his room," Zeus ordered before tromping down the hallway in the opposite direction.

The teen looked into the eyes of one SAS soldier Wolf.

"C'mon," was the only word he uttered, roughly grabbing his arm in a vise-like grip. Other recruits passed with barely a look, used to seeing the almost assassin being manhandled anytime he was outside a locked room.

A deserted hallway lay before the pair, Wolf finally venturing at a conversation, hushed as it was.

"Kid, you have a lot of explaining to do."

"Me? You think I'm here because I want to be."

The man sighed. "No, it's just been a horrible challenge trying to get you off the compound with someone with you at all times." He checked his watch, anxiety rolling off him in waves.

Alex could sense there was something going on but had no idea what it was. "What is it? And why haven't you even said a word to me for the last two weeks?"

"Quiet, we don't have much time." The teen finally noticed their utter solitude, no one having come their way in a few minutes.

"Time for-"

A large hand pulled him into an alcove leading to another side hallway, pulling Wolf with him. The husky SAS soldier did not react with the anger and attack the blonde boy had expected, but looked to almost have been waiting for that to happen. His next words confirmed his assessment.

"About time."

"Sorry, I had some trouble get away from a few physicals that were scheduled."

"Fox? What is this?"

"No, time for that, Alex, we have to move quickly. Yassen will be back at any moment and this may be our only chance."

"You breaking me out?" He tried to keep the hope from his tone but he couldn't help the almost pleading sound.

"No, we are trying see how long it takes for someone to notice you are gone. Of course we are breaking you out, or at least attempting to. With Sarov at the Okhotsk base and Yassen in Magadan, this was one of the only chances to slip away." He looked to Wolf. "You know what to do?" A curt nod affirmed what he already knew. "Okay, I'm heading back to the lab. Good luck." With that, he clapped his teammate on the back and walked away, passing a remote device to Wolf as he walked away. Alex didn't need to ask what it was; he knew.

"Wolf, you have to get it off-"

"Hello, Alex. Did you get your things for tomorrow?" The cold Russian voice caused the teen's stomach to drop to his knees, all hope gone entirely. "Wolf is it? SAS I presume." The muscles in Wolf's jaw clenched, anger rising by the minute.

"Come with me," Yassen commanded to the boy, his voice holding no room for rebellion, more soldiers pushing into the hallway. "The remote please, soldier." Clenching his fists, Wolf started to hand over the device but pressed the button that would release Alex first.

"Run, now, I'll hold them off," shouted K-Unit's leader, punching the nearest recruit in the solar plexus, the breath whooshing out violently. Holding his own, Wolf was able to take down three men before they registered what had happened. But Yassen was not a newbie. He took off after his charge, the blonde head bounding around the next corner before disappearing. Pulling out a gun, he reached the bend and without even aiming shot at the boy, hitting him in the back. A red feather stuck out from the gray shirt, the boy succumbing to the call of sleep. Picking up John Rider's son in his hands, he stalked back to the fight that was now at an end. The SAS man hung between two recruits, his face bloodied and his hands wretched behind his back to keep him from escaping.

"How nice of you to show yourself, Wolf." The pleasant tone to his voice was not one of friendliness, it was deadly. "Know that if you had succeeded, I would have hunted you down and killed you myself in an extremely painful way. Now, I may be able to use you to enhance Alex's training, his loyalty to you apparent. He listens to you, I can use that." He nodded to the men holding the man, their orders clear and predetermined.

ARARARARARARAR

Alex awoke to a white ceiling, finding himself in the lab. No one seemed to be about but he found his movements hindered seeing as how he was handcuffed to the gurney. What little trust he had gained was now lost, he knew with certainty. Yassen would have to resort to his previous methods, that thought causing the boy to shiver. Not much scared him, but an angry Yassen was enough to cause him to sweat.

The door glided open, the Russian appearing as if his thoughts had summoned him. "Hello, Alex."

The teen glared hotly at the man who had captured, tortured, and refused to release him, sticking him with men who tried to make his life utterly miserable and captured one of his only allies within the compound.

The man ignored the animosity emanating from the boy and instead went on. "As you may have concluded, Wolf is now a prisoner, my prisoner. His fate has not been decided but I will warn you that it does not look pleasant." He paused, coming to stand before the gurney. "His life may be spared, but that depends on you."

When he did not go on, Alex met his gaze with his own smoldering one. "And what would you need me to do?"

"Go on the mission. It is quite simple really. You complete your job and I will allow the man to return to England with no permanent damage."

"And if I don't?"

"You will eventually go on the mission, Alex. When depends on if you wish to save your friend or live with his death on your head for the rest of your life."

"And what about the person I will have to kill, Yassen? You think because I don't know the person it won't haunt me with the same urgency?"

"You will become immune to it in time."

"I don't want that!" He pulled angrily at the restraints, trying to free himself in a futile attempt.

"I'm not asking you to become heartless overnight, Alex. I'm asking you to save your friend and prove to Sarov you need more time to train." His tone had turned cold, his face showing his anger in a rare display of emotion. "This is your choice, Alex. I will give you one hour. If you come to a decision before that time, just signal and I will come back to hear your answer. Your hour starts now." The door opened with an electronic whir, shutting tightly as soon as he had exited.

Alex knew there was no hope of escape and that Wolf's life depended on his decision, but could he really kill someone in cold blood, taking away a father, mother, or child? He placed his head in his hands, hopelessness overcoming him. This would be a long hour.

ARARARARARARAR

**Okay, so there you have it. I tried to make some action occur and I had a great idea in the middle of writing this so I'm good to go for the next few chapters hopefully. I hope you all liked it and will REVIEW! **

**Cailiean44**


	8. The Test

**Hello everyone! I know this is a long time in coming and that excuses do not interest any of you, I will refrain from making any. I am happy to write again and hope to update all of my stories in the near future. **

**Anyways, on to the story. **

**Disclaimer: Alex Rider is on fanfiction for a reason….that should be obvious enough.**

**ARARARARARARARAR**

Time seemed to glide by in a blur, the doors allowing the Russian to enter what seemed like seconds after they had closed behind him. Alex was still trying to understand the implications and risks his friends had taken in order to get him out of the compound when the man's voice shook him from his thoughts.

"It is time, Alex." He did not need to prompt the teen; he knew what was at stake.

"I..I," He stumbled for words, the image of Wolf, bloodied and defenseless for his sake replaying in his head. "You knew it would come to this."

"Yes," was all the assassin said, his words echoing through the abandoned room.

"Why are you forcing me to do this? Why can't you people stay out of my life?"

"You were tested and found to be exceptional. This is nothing more than picking the best for our team."

"Tested? I have been run ragged these last weeks doing every possible activity that would bring me pain, all against my will. I do not call that testing." Alex glared at Yassen, his brown eyes smoldering with anger and hopelessness.

"You were tested before you arrived, Alex Rider." Before the teen could fire another question, Yassen continued. "The laboratory you escaped from, you did not think it was coincidence that we were able to find you?"

"Sarov planned that? He had me captured and beaten just to see if I would survive?" Disbelief filled his voice, but inside the boy knew that what he heard was true; his life was not his own and that development just proved it.

"Your answer, boy, I don't have much time," the assassin said with impatience, the only emotion that he had shown throughout their exchange.

"I don't have a choice, now do I? You knew there was a mole and just waited until now to apprehend him. You know I have to take this job, but so help me, when I have the chance, I will get rid of you, Yassen Gregorovich, and be rid of this life forever."

The man did not respond, just turned to leave, muttering over his shoulder so that it was barely discernable to Alex. "You can't get rid of who you are."

ARARARARARARARARARAR

The sun shone brightly as people darted here and there. The roof on which Alex sat had a complete view of the main street and the pub that he would be watching. His target was known to frequent there and so Yassen had led him to the building adjacent.

"Here is your gun with one bullet," Yassen explained, handing over a Grach, the silver casing flittering in the sun's rays. There were no markings, no serial number, only the hard gray surface. The teen almost refused to take the weapon, trying to see a way around what he was about to do.

"Take the gun, Tovarish. It will be over soon." Yassen reverted back to his native tongue, Alex having had minimal lessons of Russian. But calling the boy comrade seemed necessary, though he almost pushed the thought away that he was just trying to ignite the boy's anger. Calling him a brother of sorts may be the thing to set the boy off.

"Oh, yeah, thanks," said the boy sarcastically, his blonde head shifting to look at the many people who meandered through the Russian streets, bags and coats clutched tightly to their bodies and ignoring the fact that an assassin, his _captor_, called him comrade. More than ever he wished he was still 14, naïve and unaware of the constant conflicts that he seemed to find himself in and away from this man who continued to try and ruin his life. Or help him ruin others. But he hoped it didn't make it as bad to kill someone who had done so many despicable things over a man who had saved his life….or was he just justifying it to make it easier?

"Alex." The assassin's voice was hard, any civility gone. Alex took the gun from the outstretched hand, knowing that Yassen was prepared for anything he might try. He sighed in defeat.

"Your target will emerge from the establishment in exactly 4 minutes. Don't miss him or your friend will pay." The Russian turned to leave, but he turned back once again to address his ward. "The block is secured. I wouldn't run off if I were you." And then he was gone.

Alex had assumed as much, but the way Yassen had commanded him seemed almost as if…no. It was not possible that Yassen, loyal as long as the money kept flowing, would _challenge_ Alex to run off.

He tried to calm himself, hoping that this was just a test to see if he would do it and at the last second, Yassen would call him off. But he knew this was real; this was what they wanted his reality to be. He was just a pawn, his feelings not taken into consideration. But there had to be a way to get around this.

The ladder that Yassen and he had ascended earlier was to his left, but the teen had failed to establish his complete surroundings. A blue house to his right was flush against the hotel he was on, the buildings sharing a wall. Three more _dachas_ followed that layout. Yassen had said that the area was secured but they wouldn't know that he had flown the coop until it was too late. All he had to do was make it to the other end of the lane and he would have a chance of evasion.

He tucked the gun into his waistband, sure that if he needed more ammunition that he could find some in the streets of Russia. Then, he crouched low, staying below the shallow walls bordering the roof. Peeling paint and various trash littering the ground around his feet were the only things he saw, keeping low and making it to where the two walls connected to make a short barrier. Peeking above the edge, Alex tried to spot any of Yassen's men, failed to see any, and hopped over quickly. He continued in this fashion to the very last of the _dachas_, and scurried down a narrow and rickety ladder.

The teen found himself in an alley, the dank smell of waste causing him to wrinkle his nose. The target should have come out of the pub by now, Yassen realizing that he was either not on the roof of did not have the guts to pull the trigger. Both were basically correct.

A shot went off, from where the young spy could not tell, stopping him mid-step and causing his breath to freeze in his chest. After a moment of screaming, Alex had no doubt that the man was dead, probably by Yassen's hand.

Alex debated on what to do, now that he was on the run in a foreign country and looking extremely out of place with his all black attire. Hoping for luck, Alex strode onto the street in the opposite direction as the house he had been placed, head down, his senses on overdrive. Colliding with a woman, Alex covered a cringe as she began to insult him with words he probably did not want to know the translation. He doubled his efforts in finding some place to hide when a man came up beside him, taking his arm in an iron grip.

Alex started to struggle, but the man's voice stopped him. "I'm here to help you." His voice was soft and yet filled with authority, someone used to being obeyed. If Alex didn't know any better, he could say that Yassen and the man could be twins when it came to how they carried themselves.

"I was told that you would need help eluding certain terrorist members," the man whispered so that the boy beside him was the only one able to discern what he was saying. They were walking briskly so as to look like they belonged, the man's thick accent making it hard for Alex to understand him.

"Who are-"

"No time for that. _Bwestra_, in here." Fairly pushing the teen up a ramp into what looked to be a deserted boutique, Alex picked up on the man's use of the word quickly, one of the only words he really knew. Obviously, he was informed of what kind of trouble the teen was in.

Alex tried to ask again who the man was, but was stopped when the man pulled him further into the store and covered his mouth with a meaty hand. Just then, a man from Delta unit passed by, his eyes scouring the crowd for his 'teammember.'

"You stay here, I'll be back," the man said quietly. He let go of Alex and moved to the front of the shop and waltzed into the lively street again. Alex felt that something was wrong just before the man shoved the ramp to cover what had looked like the front of a boutique store, trapping him inside. Moments later, his fears were confirmed when he felt the whole store move. He had been tricked, and was once again a prisoner.

He felt for the gun, somehow knowing that the man had taken it. He was not wrong. The teen had no idea if the man was with Sarov, but he knew that he had blown his one chance of escape. When he left, he would never visit Russia again.

ARARARARARARARARAR

Yassen ascended the ladder two rungs at a time, knowing that Alex would not be on the roof. He smiled slightly. He knew his challenge would not go untried.

The roof was empty, various wrappers and cigarette butts littering the dirty cement floor, years of filth that would never be cleaned. He was not surprised to find the gun missing along with his ward. He had specifically picked this building, hoping and knowing that Alex would see the houses alongside one another. He had also neglected to post guards in that direction, knowing Vicktor would take care of his trainee. All he had to do was pacify Sarov and he would go and meet his long time friend.

Zeus climbed onto the roof to stand beside him, rage and energy rolling off of him in waves. "Let me find the runt and I'll make sure he pays for this."

"That won't be necessary," replied the assassin, pressing down on the remote that controlled the watch on Alex's arm. Within 20 seconds, he would be unconscious, sleeping soundly in the back of a semi truck heading for a secluded _dacha_ in the countryside.

Yassen proceeded to climb down and get in the car that was waiting. Sarov would not be happy. Yassen allowed himself some satisfaction in that.

An hour later, he approached the library door where Sarov was pacing. Confidently striding in, Yassen appraised the state of the room, taking in the overturned books and the broken table. A bottle of vodka sat partly gone on a mahogany desk.

When Sarov saw Yassen, his red face contorted in anger. "You," he said menacingly, his finger pointing accusingly at the assassin. "You let him get away."

"I did everything that you asked. But we did bring him here because he was the best," responded Yassen coolly, a picture of calm despite the rage directed at him.

"If I find out that you double crossed me, I will make it so that you are hunted, tortured, and burned for what you have done. Nowhere will be safe for you."

"He could not have gone far and he does not speak Russian. He will stick out in this culture. You know that he will not go unnoticed."

Sarov took a gulp of the liquid in the long necked bottle, closing his eyes as if to shut out the world around him. Going to place the bottle on the table once again, he stopped to turn to the assassin. "You have a plan. This was part of it the whole time."

"This will test him like no test we can give him here. He does not know he is being tested and will have to survive like he would in the field. It will be an easy thing to find him." Yassen knew by the look in Sarov's eyes that he believed him, seeing the wisdom behind his false words.

"Why did you not tell me about your plan? Why did you keep this from me, _tovarish_?" Sarov's steely gaze took in the man before him, the epitome of calm and collected.

Yassen bristled at the term comrade. "I thought it better if no one knew of my plans so that there would be no chance of him finding out. Besides, I had no certainties that he would take the bait." He knew though; he had known the boy would not forsake a path that could save him from taking someone's life. Either way would have tested Alex in ways that drills could not accomplish.

A small smile alighted Sarov's lips. "Soon, little Alex will be back in the compound, having no idea of your plan."

Yassen allowed himself some satisfaction. Not only had he gotten Alex on his own terms, but he had kept his trust with Sarov which could prove useful at some point.

And Alex would follow in his father's footsteps.

ARARARARARARARARAR

**Okay, so that was it. Not much action but I wanted to move Alex from training. Soooo, I don't know how you all liked it but it was fun to write. Thanks for taking the time to read!**

**Cailiean44**


	9. Choices

**We reached one hundred reviews! Oh, thanks to all of you who have reviewed. That makes me so happy. Alright, well, I was so inspired when I wrote the last chapter that I thought it would be nice to all my readers to update once again. This is probably the quickest I have ever updated a story, so take it while you can. So this isn't very long but it will set up the next few chapters. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I'd think after eight chapters that it would be pretty obvious that this is still fanfiction and didn't magically change into the real thing. But just in case, I made this up not Anthony Horowitz. Sorry to burst your bubble.**

**ARARARARARARAR**

Yassen crashed through the door to the holding cell where Wolf was being held. The soldier gazed up hotly at the man before him, thinking of all the things he wished he could do to the assassin, all of which were extremely unpleasant.

The gray stones echoed as the door was shut behind him, Yassen taking in the small barred window, the cold hard floor, and the musty scent of a place removed from the normal cleaning rounds.

"Hello, Wolf." The man's voice was soft and hard, his eyes looking for any signs of a trick that Wolf might plan.

"What do you want, Gregorovich?" Pent up anger could be heard in the soldier's voice, though he tried for indifference.

"I want you to help me."

ARARARARARARAR

Alex came to in the back of the truck, the jolting vehicle showing that they were still moving. He had no idea how long he had been out for, no windows or holes letting light infiltrate the prison. One bulb burned in the corner, the kind of lamp used in worksites. Despite that, the whole truck could pass as a clothing store, racks of women's' dresses and shoes lining the walls, men's dress shirts and ties hanging neatly. A shelve of jewelry lay sprawled on the floor, the twinkling pseudo gems large and gaudy.

Hours seemed to go by as Alex made himself comfortable on the floor, or as comfortable as he could, waiting for when the truck would stop. He counted the minutes, the number of shoes, number of ridges in the ceiling. Anxiety soon washed over him. He was helpless and no one knew where he was. Not that he would enjoy going back to the base but at least he knew what to expect and what was expected of him. He had no idea why he had been taken or who had even known he would be there.

He had only time to think about what would happen.

ARARARARARARAR

Sarov paced the library. His expensive shoes clicked noisily on the wooden flooring as he looked from the phone to the door, cursing his Russian countryman silently. He knew that Yassen was up to something when-

The man walked through the door, calm and collected as always. There was no anxiety, no anger in his face to broadcast that his ward had escaped and was still unfound. The rage built inside of the general at the lack of emotion evident on the assassin's face.

"You said he would take a test, not cause a week long manhunt." Sarov stalked to the gin cabinet, taking out a bottle of clear liquid, hoping to drown in whatever he had found.

"He is proving his resourcefulness. That was the point, was it not?"

"Yes, of course!" Sarov was past furious, he was irate though he could find no evidence that Yassen had allowed Alex to evade them.

"There are many recruits with just as much skill as Rider," Yassen suggested calmly, not fazed by the general's appearance or the fact he had lied right to the man's face. He was in control now.

Sarov turned to look at the assassin, his eyes filled with rage. "You know as well as I do that he is unique. And none of the other recruits are young enough to do the job we had planned." He paced to the window to look out at the majestic expanse of mountains. Yassen did not move from where he was positioned, his body tensed for anything that might transpire. "You are looking for him, _da_?"

"Of course."

"Fine, then leave me. When you find him, bring him to me so that we can begin his next mission."

The blonde turned to leave but stopped at Sarov's voice. "If you had anything to do with this, you will receive no mercy from me, Yassen."

"I would expect nothing less," he responded. "But I thought I had already assured you of my innocence. Perhaps you should be looking at other parties that could be helping our young friend." With that, Yassen turned, striding confidently out of the room and leaving the general to wallow in solitude. He walked briskly to the holding cells under the compound, the lowest level in the building. Locating the one that Wolf was staying in, he opened the door with that swipe of a key. The electronic buzz preceded him, closing likewise after he had stepped through. The man did not look up, staring intently at the opposing wall.

"Wolf."

The man made no response, did not venture to gaze at the assassin. He just sat still, unblinking.

"I will not tolerate disrespect." The man in front of him finally turned to look scathingly at him, Wolf's eyes filled with hate.

"Have you decided what your answer will be? I must leave post haste if I am to meet them at the rendezvous point." Yassen was trying not to become impatient but he needed to hurry in order to meet Vicktor.

"I cannot betray my team. It would be treason."

"It is your life. You can save it now and in the process help Alex. Or you can rot here or better yet, be executed. They will not hesitate if I give the word."

Wolf sighed, looking away. "If I do this, it will not be to save my own skin." Yassen said nothing, knowing the man was trying to justify it in his mind. "If I help you, who is to say that my team will be safe?"

A raised eyebrow was the only answer he received. "Of course, I can't bargain with you." He seemed to be studying the walls, hoping that he might find the answer scrawled in the stone. Seeming to find none, he hung his head. "I will help you. But I don't trust you."

"I would expect nothing else. But you will be my prisoner. Do not think that you will have special privileges. Remember that you need me to help you find Alex, not the other way around."

"How could I forget," muttered the man under his breath.

"And," prompted Yassen, his eyes searing into Wolf.

"I can't."

"Then when I find out who they are, I will kill them."

"Isn't that what you were planning anyway."

"I will spare their lives if they will cooperate. I will not stand for interference or resistance. One mishap and I will dispose of them."

"I can't bargain for their lives without even talking to them about it. How can you ask me to sign them up for this mission when I can't even ask them what they want to do."

"You could ask them."

"And then you would know who they are. I don't think so," Wolf snapped, his patience gone with the assassin.

"It is your choice. I have previously given my word to you in regards to their safety. The choice is now yours. But if you do not make a decision, I will consider it a refusal, and therefore, you life will be forfeit. I suggest that you make the right decision."

"You don't leave much choice, do you? Alright, Gregorovich, I will talk to my team. But if anything happens to them-"

"You are at my mercy, soldier. I would advise you not to threaten me." His voice was dangerous, like an animal that had been pushed too far. He may have given Wolf a generous offer but he had not transformed into someone warm and fuzzy on the inside.

Yassen pulled out a pair of handcuffs, motioning Wolf to stand. He did as he was asked, gazing suspiciously at the man until he disappeared behind him. The cuffs were tight and cold against his skin, the instinct to pick them foremost. But Wolf refrained knowing that he needed to find Alex and therefore needed to be alive to help him. He had to bide his time.

He was led out the door and up the long deserted hallway. Wolf tensed as a man passed by but did not intercept them. Remembering that Yassen stood behind him almost gave him a feeling of satisfaction, almost.

They arrived at an intersection. With no one in the hallways, Yassen unlocked the handcuffs, one hand on his gun.

"I am allowing you time to meet with your team. If you are not here in 20 minutes, I will presume that you had reneged on our arrangement and will presently find you and kill you." With that, the assassin turned and walked to the wall, leaning against it as if he had not a care in the world. When Wolf stood frozen a few seconds more, Yassen looked pointedly at him. "Time starts now."

Wolf took off in a sprint to find his team and hoped that he had made the right decision. He was willing to die for his country but if it meant saving Alex, he was willing to work with Yassen, monster that he may be.

ARARARARARAR

The truck stopped. There was no way to tell if it was night or day but Alex had a feeling that no matter when it was, it would be somewhere deserted.

He had come to the conclusion that this was probably a test and he had failed. Yassen knew he would not shoot the man and had planned accordingly. He just didn't know when they would quit messing around and just take him back to the compound. He was getting really tired of looking at women's wear.

The light that had dashed the shadows flickered off with the truck. Sounds of a door slamming and someone plodding beside the truck forced Alex into action. He had to find a weapon in order to immobilize whoever had grabbed him. This was most likely part of the test too.

He looked around the truck, trying to see in the darkness. He pictured the truck as he remembered it; things bolted to the ground, useless clothing items and….the lamp. Jumping over various articles of clothing on the floor and the spilled jewelry, Alex felt for the lamp on the hook it was attached to, the cord connected to an outlet. He pulled it out and grasped the lamp in one hand. As he picked his way through the racks, he approached the door about the time that whoever had captured him started lowering the ramp. It was dark outside with a brilliant array of stars from what Alex could see. He also detected no sign of street lights or houses anywhere in the vicinity, meaning he was in the middle of the countryside. Hefting the lamp and pressing himself against the wall, he muted his breathing, seeing the outline of the man. He was bigger than Alex remembered.

The teen was about to attack when the man's voice stopped him. "Little Alex, put down the lamp and come out of the shadows."

Alex knew there was no way the man could see him, let alone that he had a lamp. Which only meant one thing; he was a trained agent, probably an assassin from the compound. He should have known Yassen wouldn't give him a rookie to work with. He debated on if the man was just bluffing and attacking anyway when he was halted once again.

"If you do not come out I will use the device that Yassen gave me. I hear it is very painful." Alex closed his eyes in realization and defeat, knowing that he had no choice but to concede or that man would force him to.

The teen forced his feet to move as he placed the lamp on the wooden planking that made up the floor.

"That's a good boy. Yassen said that you were sensible." The man attempted a laissez-fair attitude but the hardness was in his eyes and voice. He was not a rookie like the men who were training at the compound. Alex knew in one look that he was like Yassen, experienced, older, having seen much of life.

"Do you work for Yassen?" Alex asked angrily, not liking getting bested.

"No," was his reply. No elaboration, no explanation. Alex was getting frustrated.

"Then who do you work for?"

"Before I answer any question, boy, I want you to put these on." He placed handcuffs on the edge of the truck and backed away, probably having heard that Alex was a fighter. Reluctantly, Alex placed them on his wrists but very loose.

"Come down, Alex. You are safe here."

"Is that why I am handcuffed?" Alex asked sarcastically.

To his surprise, the man grinned slightly but did not answer his question. "My name is Vicktor and we will be here for a few hours. I suggest you take a nap inside." The man pointed behind him to a small _dacha_, a beautiful garden reaching out through the peeling white picket fence. A large tree stretched upwards in front of the house, its limbs so large any one of them could crumble the house below it.

Sensing that the man was waiting for him to move, he began to walk towards the house, picking the handcuffs as he walked.

"Alex," came a voice from behind. He turned to look but did not turn all the way. "Tighten the cuffs, boy. Good try though." He walked past Alex with the same small grin in place. Alex found that he was more comfortable with the man than with Yassen if he had to choose, only because he seemed to have a sense of humor.

ARARARARARAR

Alan Blunt sat in front of his computer screen watching the blinking light that was the location of one Alex Rider. The transmitter was weak but the battery was holding on, even after two months. Four other blimps were also on the screen, K-Unit also having been implanted with the beacons. MI6 had the resources to locate and retrieve the men but he was troubled by the fact that Rider had been moved a few hundred miles away from the group. He had never been more than a mile away since his arrival, obviously in some kind of compound.

His instincts told him to retrieve the men, being four of them and only one of Alex. But that one Alex Rider had saved the world and been an irreplaceable asset. But he knew the risks of the job meant some people had to die for the good of all. And maybe, if he was being trained for SCORPIA it would be better if he died.

He continued to ponder, knowing that he would get K-Unit out, but not knowing what to do with Alex.

"Alan, do you have any orders to pass on?" The smell of peppermint alerted Blunt as to the identity of the voice, Mrs. Jones having just entered his office.

"Send in the teams tomorrow to retrieve K-Unit and exterminate the compound."

"Just K-Unit? Are you leaving Alex in the compound?"

"He is not in it," he said simply.

"What-"

"I have yet to decide what to do with Rider. Pass along the orders."

"Right away."

ARARARARARARARAR

Twenty minutes on the dot and the whole K-Unit was congregated in the spot Yassen had told him. Wolf looked around cautiously, knowing he had had no choice but hoping that he had not led his people into a trap.

He heard Yassen approach behind him. He turned and saw that the man was alone, relief uncurling the tight knot in his stomach. As long as he had not caused the death of all his men by doing as the assassin said, maybe there was a way out of this after all.

"This is all of them?" asked the cold Russian, his eyes sizing up the group.

"All in my unit. We weren't told of anyone else infiltrating the ranks."

"Good. Then follow me." He stalked away, with all the confidence in the world, not worried at all that the four SAS soldiers would try to overtake him.

As if reading his thoughts, Yassen looked over his shoulder. "If any of you try to break our arrangement, I will kill someone in your unit. You will have to live with their death on your hands for the rest of however long you live." He had said it so casually, so flippantly, grating on Wolf's nerves. The man was a machine, no emotion evident in any of his actions. Wolf hated that he had allowed the man to goad him into going.

They arrived at the garage, Yassen picking his way through the various vehicles until he came to one that fit his liking. Before entering he turned to the unit.

"You are my prisoners, but we are working together. I know that Alex will be more comfortable with you there and I have no doubt that MI6 knows that Alex is not here anymore. They will not hesitate to move in. All that Sarov has worked for will be for nothing." He looked pointedly at each man. "I know you do not like how MI6 has mistreated Alex, probably do not even know all of it. For that reason, I asked for your help. I want you to work for me."

ARARARARARARARARAR

**So, probably not nice but it was fun to write. I'm not too happy with how I portrayed Yassen especially towards the end but it fit what I needed. Okay, so I hope you all liked it and review! This story will probably be ending soon. I think I know where this is going and how I want it to end. Hurray for that! Thanks again!**

**Cailiean44**


	10. Beacon

**Disclaimer: Still not mine… **

**ARARARARARARARARAR**

The SAS units moved into position to take over the compound, watching as the sun peaked over the mountains, wiping away the shadows. No movement besides the few guards could be seen. This was the day Sarov would fall for the second time.

Little did they know, Sarov was safely away, having gotten word that the SAS soldiers were on their way to attack the base. He had given orders for the majority of his soldiers to take their training to the compound in Malagosta, taking all the equipment possible with them and destroying the rest. He had left a skeleton crew to give the compound a look of normality. Causalities were necessary for the good of the whole.

He had come to realize that Yassen was indeed behind Alex's disappearance and the disappearance of four other recruits. He had known the assassin had his own plans for the boy. _I should have killed him_, he thought bitterly.

When the soldiers finally rushed the compound, they found that the halls were empty, void of everything; technology, decoration, life. The captives gave up nothing. The mission was a failure.

Mr. Blunt tried to remain composed as he listened to his secretary give the report on the mission. The result was not the desired outcome. It was quite unexpected actually. But at least the beacons for his best unit were still transmitting. Or at least K-Unit's was; Alex's continued to grow weaker with each passing hour as if running out of battery. If they did not reach him soon, he could be lost to Sarov and Yassen and there was nothing they could do.

"Any new orders, sir?" Her peppermint breath assaulted him as he looked at the official report and cringed again.

"Yes, hand me a peppermint."

**ARARARARARARARARAR**

The _dacha_ was lightly furnished with no personal belongings to be seen. Alex took in the clean but impersonal house with suspicion, expecting assassins to storm out of the rooms connected to the foyer. But no attack came.

Vicktor watched his charge closely as he made his way to the kitchen. Bringing out two bottles of water, he threw one to the teen's handcuffed hands. "Drink."

Seeing that the seal had not been broken, Alex drank greedily, not realizing how thirsty he was. He watched as Vicktor assumed a casual stance by the wall, sipping from his own bottle. Finishing the bottle with a _pop_ of plastic, Alex studied the man.

He was tall, built like a dancer, just as Yassen did. His blonde hair was cropped short and the lines by his eyes indicated that he smiled much more than the men he had seen lately.

"It is rude not to say thank you, boy," rumbled Vicktor from his place by the wall.

"Why am I here?" Alex, try as he might, could not understand why Yassen would allow this man to take him so far away from the compound without any back-up. Surely Yassen did not believe he would just sit and wait for what was next?

"All in good time," was all that was said before silence once again reigned.

**ARARARARARARARAR**

The jeep bumped annoying along the dirt road, the cold countryside looming as far as the horizon. After accepting Yassen's terms, K-Unit was hustled to the back of the small jeep. The handcuffs that Yassen had provided chafed their wrists even as they questioned if they made the right move. There was no way to tell yet, but Alex deserved to be free and if their sacrifice could aid in that, they would do what was necessary. Even side with a heartless killer.

A single strand of light found its way through the flimsy canvas covering the top of the military vehicle. No other light could be seen besides the dim stars that illuminated the road with a hazy mist.

Brake lights flashed as the jeep slowed. Cutting the engine, Yassen came around to motion the four men out of the back, his face hard and dangerous in the low light.

A Russian voice called out to Yassen as the men made their way to the ground. The assassin's face lost some of its hardness and searched for the speaker.

"Prevet, friend. What have you brought?" A man of equally intimidating physique and demeanor approached K-Unit. The two Russians grasped forearms in a sign of greeting, the man's mouth curling into a small grin. "I am glad to see you unharmed, Ya."

"You as well, Vicktor. I have not heard that name in decades." They released their hold and stepped away from the SAS soldiers. "Did you get the package?"

"_Da_, of course. You doubt me?" A playful grin lightened his face as he motioned towards the _dacha_.

"No but I know what the package is capable of." Yassen started towards the small shack, eager to see for himself that Alex was indeed fine, leaving Vicktor with the SAS soldiers. Without a word, the mysterious man followed.

The SAS men were left standing in the night, handcuffed and confused. Wolf was the first to start walking towards the shack. Noticing the other's hesitating, he turned back to them.

"What are you waiting for, an invitation from two assassins?" At this, the four men walked cautiously into the dimly lit _dacha_.

Alex was sitting on an overstuffed paisley green chair, the high back looking uncomfortable. Yassen stood possessively behind him as Vicktor lounged against the opposite wall conversing freely with the assassin as if they were old friends.

The teen's face lit up at the sight of the SAS team and he attempted to get up before a hand from Yassen halted him.

"A few ground rules. I am in charge and you are my prisoners. Vicktor is just as able to deal with any issues as I am, so do not think that you will get any sympathy from him." K-Unit glanced at the man who had previously been smiling and relaxed to see it replaced by the gleam of a cold-hearted assassin. Just like Yassen. _No wonder they were friends_, thought Fox absentmindedly.

"Also, you will be here for the time being, but Alex's training must go on and despite the threats, you will try to conceive an escape plan. I still have the boy's remote in my possession. While yours," looking each member of K-Unit in the eye with a cold stare, "may be out of range of the compound, his was programmed to work when the remote itself was in range apart from the compound. Do not test me."

Fox watched as Alex's face turned red, anger limiting his self-control. The soldier watched as the teen shifted to face Yassen who was still holding him in the chair. "Are you finished talking like I am not here?"

"You do not have a choice in the matter, Alex. There are things you are not aware of."

"You don't-" Pain shot up his arm as the tiny black remote came into view. K-Unit automatically stepped forward to protect the member of their team, but a menacing look from Vicktor told them to stay out of the way.

Wolf gave Fox a sideways glance, indicating what Fox had been scared of, that Wolf would try to take things into his own hands with or without the rest of the team as back up. Fox gave a slight shake of his head, but his hot headed teammate did not seem to heed his warning.

Lunging forward, Wolf attempted to reach Yassen and trying to out-maneuver Vicktor. But Vicktor had been prepared for an intervention as soon as Yassen started to punish the boy, had seen the silent communication between Fox and Wolf. With a fist in between the shoulder blades, Wolf fell down shy of his target, plunging headfirst into a side table. On the ground, Vicktor flipped Wolf onto his back so that he was facing the stoic Russian. In a fluid movement, Vicktor's fist collided with his prey's solar plexus, the air rushing out of his lungs in a_ whoosh_.

Vicktor's steely gaze took in the rest of K-Unit, daring them to try to best him. They all looked back at him with anger but acceptance, knowing they had little chance against another Yassen, especially handcuffed. Yassen had since ceased using the remote on Alex and a thick tension filled the room as heavy breathing was the only sound.

The blonde assassin looked to his longtime friend. Without a word, Vicktor, took Alex's arm and led him into another room.

"Now, it is time to talk about your mission."

**ARARARARARARARARAR**

"The beacons are getting weaker, sir. Should we move in on them? They seem to have converged at a single point."

Mr. Blunt did not like wrestling with himself; he prided himself on being very decisive. But when it came to Alex Rider, his decisiveness seemed to abandon him.

"Sir?"

"Send three teams. Have them scout out the point to see what we are up against. Since they knew about our attack on the compound, they may have simply moved to a different location. Do not move without my order." He turned back to his paperwork, hoping that one SAS team and a sixteen year old boy was worth putting so many men in jeopardy.

He grunted to himself. This was very uncharacteristic of him, indeed.

**ARARARARARARARARAR**

Sarov looked out over the docks, the tide dragging pebbles and sand from the shore to its gray depths. There was unimaginable power in the sea. It was a beautiful enchantress and an unkind mistress in the same breath. He smiled.

His men worked to clear the docks or debris that had accumulated since his last visit years ago. Bitter memories of that day assaulted him. This time he would succeed in creating a better world, even though Alex was not here to share in the spoils of victory. Once his plan was executed, he would put every effort into finding his adopted son. Yassen would keep him safe until everything blew over and then he would be returned to his rightful place. It was his destiny.

Some men placed wooden crates under the pier that Sarov was standing on. He grinned to himself. Just some insurance to make sure his plot goes as planned this time. There would be no stopping him.

He strode back to a waiting vehicle. When the time comes, he would be eager to start the new world, whether the world was ready or not.

**ARARARARARARARARAR**

Vicktor was not rough with Alex as the boy expected him to be. He simply led him to a back bedroom, lounging against the door nonchalantly as Alex settled on the bed stiffly.

When the silence became unbearable, Alex tried to converse with the blonde assassin. "What are they doing?"

"Briefing." Another long silence.

"Briefing for what?"

Vicktor looked pointedly at the boy, knowing that he was trying to build a rapport with him. "You ask a lot of questions. Yassen has not taught you how to be silent yet."

"Yet? He has tried to break me for a month and he has only proven to me why I am fighting not to be like you."

Instead of anger like Alex had intended, Vicktor only laughed and stayed in front of the door. "Oh, little Alex. You know so little of my _tovarish_. But you will learn."

"Are you here to help him 'train me?'" He asked with sarcasm, still trying to get a rise out of the relaxed man so that he would have a chance to get out the door.

"I am here simply as a favor for an old friend." He shrugged a shoulder. "When Yassen has no more use for me, I will go back to my life just as before. "

"Yeah, you've got some life. Killing innocent people for money seems like a great plan." Alex sneered at the large man, smiling inwardly as a flash of anger crossed his face before being replaced by the easy going look once again.

"You will have to do better than that, little Alex. You friends aren't going to be here to look out for you much longer, so I wouldn't make enemies of those who mean you no harm…yet."

_Aren't going to be here…much longer?_ "What do you mean?" Alex thought back to when K-Unit had walked into the small house and remembered his surprise. Why would Yassen bring the SAS men here anyway? He knew they would want to help him escape and they would reinforce his ability to withstand Yassen's pull. And where was Sarov in all this?

**ARARARARARARARARAR**

The four soldiers looked menacingly at Yassen, Wolf's mood worsened by his bruised rib and sore back. But the assassin just looked back calmly, not intimidated in the slightest by their animosity.

"It is time to talk about our arrangement."

"We are staying with Alex until-"

Icy blue eyes silenced Eagle who had spoken for the first time. The whole team was on edge after seeing two of their team members roughed up and was helpless to do anything about it. They were four SAS members that had trained at a SCORPIA facility for three months. They surely could take down one assassin.

"Before any of you make a move that you will regret, remember that Vicktor has Alex in the other room. Now, let talk about what it required of you."

"Sarov's plan for the recruits has been to finish what he started on that day when Alex ruined his attempt to blow up half the world. He has created a loyal army and safe houses around the world to keep him safe once he has set his plan in motion. You four are to stop it from occurring."

Silence reigned in the room as they looked at the assassin. He was giving them the plans of a mad man and the opportunity to stop him….

"Wait, so you, the cold-blooded assassin, are allowing us to save millions of lives? Why?" Snake spoke up this time, his curiosity peaked at the uncharacteristic mission.

"I do not owe you an explanation. You need only know I have given you the opportunity to save lives and you only have a week to do it. Your director will know the spot. Once you have stopped Sarov, you are free to live your lives and will not hear from me again."

They stood, stunned for a few minutes more, before Fox ventured to ask the question they all wanted to ask. "And what about Alex?"

"He will be safe with me, no matter the outcome."

"What if he wants to come back with us?"

"He does not have that option. I have vowed to train Alex and make him the best, and I will succeed. He may fight me now, but he cannot keep that up for long." Looking at each man in the eye, Yassen ended with Wolf, whose defiance could be felt rolling off him in waves. "Save the people you can. It is too late for Alex. Your week starts now." He turned but was stopped by Fox.

"Can we say goodbye?"

Yassen took out the little black remote.

**ARARARARARARAR**

Without warning, stabbing pain caused Alex to double over.

"That's the signal," Vicktor said cheerily. He took Alex's arm as the pain subsided.

He saw that K-Unit's handcuffs had been removed and they each had a backpack as if they were going to travel.

"Are we going somewhere?" His innocent question was met with a prod from Vicktor towards the soldiers. The blonde assassin circled them and stood by the front door lazily as if he was waiting for tea to be served instead of an attack.

"What is going on, Fox," Alex asked his team member.

"We, um, have to complete a mission."

Alex looked from Fox to Yassen. Gesturing to the killer, he replied confused, "For him?"

"Sarov is continuing with his plans. We are going to stop him."

Alex began to understand. "So what is the plan?" His gaze fell on each SAS member, but when no one would look at him, he knew. Yassen was sending them away, away to freedom and he was still his prisoner.

"I'm sorry, Alex. But we have to stop Sarov. Once we get back to MI6, his movements will stick out like beacons and we can stop him. We can't let him kill millions of people." Alex thought his word choice was odd. Then when Wolf clapped Snake on the back, where their tracking beacons were located, Alex realized Fox was telling him not to give up hope because they still were transmitting a signal. Yassen had no idea that he had been implanted with a tracking beacon the last time he had gone into MI6 headquarters. How could he have forgotten? But no one had come yet. Maybe the better question was did the beacons even matter?

Watching them leave through the door after too many slaps on the back that almost knocked him on his face brought Alex a sense of hopelessness. He had relied on his team's strength to get his through Yassen's attempts to break him. Now he had two Yassen's and no one to help him remember who he was.

Once the sound of the car engine had been replaced by the night noises, Vicktor left his post by the door and Yassen went to the kitchen to get water.

"So what's next?" Alex decided to play along for right now. But the next chance he got, he would make a break for it.

"Now, you sleep. It has been 23 hours since you 'escaped' your mission and you will wish to be rested before continuing with training." Yassen's detached voice booked no argument, so Alex went back to the room Vicktor had taken him to. If he was going to escape two trained assassins, he would need to be rested. He was not giving up. And he was not going to be a killer. No matter what it took, he would not turn into a monster.

**ARARARARARARARAR**

The jeep pulled to a stop a few miles down the road from the _dacha_ they had just left. The four men sat in silence for a few moments before Wolf angrily hit the steering wheel with a growl.

Before Wolf could explode, Fox interjected. "We have to stop Sarov from killing millions of people before we can think about Alex. Alex will be safe, Yassen will make sure of that. Our first priority is to get back to headquarters and tell them about the plan." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration and exhaustion.

"Fox's right, but it still doesn't feel right," came Eagle's voice from the back, anger at having to watch Alex's abuse the last few weeks still raw.

"Okay," stated Wolf, "first thing after we hunt down Sarov and throw him in a very dirty, cold cell, we are going after the kid. And if he is hurt, I will kill Gregorovich myself." The engine sputtered to life and the rest of the drive was in silence. Three SAS teams found them on the deserted road later on and they had to explain why they couldn't go back for their team member and why they had to be patched in to Mr. Blunt's office as soon as possible. Eventually they found themselves heading up the mission to catch Sarov. But their thoughts were still with a blonde teen being held by two assassins in a tiny _dacha_. Despite his strength, they knew he would be different the next time they saw him. He might possibly be the monster they were presently trying to defeat.

**ARARARARARARARARAR**

The technician in charge of watching the monitor that had the five beacon's positions slurped obnoxiously at his coffee. Placing it by the computer screen, he swiveled around quickly to get some packets of sugar he kept in his coat pocket hanging on the wall behind him. When he faced the screen once again, only four dots remained. The fifth was no longer transmitting a signal.


	11. Revenge almost

**Disclaimer: Alex Rider does not belong to me except in book form…**

**ARARARARARARAR**

Sarov accepted a drink from the flight attendant as he lounged languidly in a plush seat. His private jet was too risky to fly without being spotted, so he had opted for a first class ticket to Greece on a commercial flight. He had taken precautions so that he would not be recognized. Looking in the mirror that morning, he had again said how he looked like a peacock to the man who was responsible for making him look like a man of fashion. Covering his military upbringing was hard but the suit made him look classy and dangerous. If anything, it kept people from coming up to him and asking him questions.

Once in the airport terminal, Sarov looked for his men, all in disguise and speckled around the busy hub. He had sent his men through various transports to Italy so as not to draw attention. Bringing hundreds of men in a group and converging at a single location was stupid and would set off too many alarms for his liking. This way, they blended in and made his mountain complex ready for him. Greece was the perfect place to disappear in mountains. Though this was his last resort, without Alex and Yassen, he had been forced to retreat for the time being. Besides, when it was time for his plan to commence, he would be far enough away to be clear of the wreckage.

A green car awaited him outside the terminal with three of his assassins ready to whisk him away. No, plans had not gone the way he had envisioned. But change does not always mean failure. This could turn out better than he had anticipated.

**ARARARARARARARAR**

Blunt and Mrs. Jones sat debriefing K-Unit in an underground bunker, safe from enemy ears. Neither could believe the story they wove and were amazed at the players involved. They had thought they knew what was happening based on intermittent reports, but their knowledge was nothing compared to the large-scale vision General Sarov had implemented. Dread collected in their stomachs as the team concluded their report. The fact that Yassen had Alex was a problem but K-Unit was correct in assessing that the boy was in no real danger. However, knowing they had less than one week to stop a madman from blowing up half the world caused major issues. They had no permission to retrieve K-Unit from the Russian government, let alone to enact a military strike on their soil involving their nuclear waste…there just wasn't enough time.

Mrs. Jones incessant sucking grated on Blunt's already frazzled nerves. He held his hand out for another. The confounded woman had gotten him in the habit of eating peppermints when he was stressed. It was ridiculous but better than the alternative.

After thanking the team for their good work, Blunt stepped into the hallway followed closely by his second in command. "What orders should I pass on?"

Blunt ran a hand through his immaculate, steel gray hair, messing it for the first time Tulip Jones had ever seen. "I'm getting too old for this Tulip."

Glancing at her, Blunt was rewarded with a stoic face, sucking continually on her peppermint.

"Ready the teams. I will confer with the Russian government, then we'll ship out. We have to stop a catastrophe."

**ARARARARARARAR**

Zeus paced the compound, looking for something to destroy. The fact that the boy as gone was degrading, but not as humiliating as the fact that it was on his watch. His team had been assigned to make sure he completed his mission and was transported back to the base safe and sound. Sarov had made it very clear that his lack of discipline had been the reason both Yassen and Alex were now who knows where. He should have known better than to follow Yassen's orders instead of his own gut. Instincts kept you alive in an organization like this. Assassins aren't lucky; they listen to their instincts.

Four men sparred in the arena Zeus had stalked into, his team. They were just as angry that they had let the little nuisance slip through their perimeter and were taking it out in the healthy way. At least, the trained killer's way.

"Any news about a retrieval mission?" One man, codename Apollo ceased sparring and turned to his leader. The rest of the team followed suit and took in the scowl that seemed to scream for vengeance.

"I believe Sarov has cut his losses and focused his attention on the events at hand. There is no retrieval mission," Zeus growled through clenched teeth.

One of his men, Ares, the largest and most ruthless out of the five, examined his meaty hand appraisingly. "Maybe he has not had an offer that suited him."

Too angry to play games, Zeus lashed out. "Speak plainly, Ares, or you will find yourself with a bullet between your eyes."

A slow smile spread across his face. He got the name Ares honestly. His anger was well known with the recruits and not many dared cross him. Too many people had died trying. "Why not offer our services to bring back the boy and Yassen. I am sure Sarov would appreciate getting his hands on his rogue partner. There are five of us and two of them. It should not be that hard to bring them in."

"Do you know who you are plotting against? The man who created this program and training exercises? Do not think to outwit him, brother, or you will soon be dead."

Shrugging nonchalantly, Ares looked at each of his teammates in turn. "Sarov thinks we cannot handle a child. By bringing him back, we will be back in his good graces and be top team once again. Is that not worth the risk?"

A few nods followed Ares' suggestion. What did they really have to lose?

"Sarov just arrived. We should pay him a visit," said Zeus, smiling mirthlessly for the first time since Alex Rider had escaped.

**ARARARARARARAR**

"I will not act like your son! You cannot make me get on a plane with you. Unless you want the authorities to know you kid-" His arm erupted with staggering pain, his rant cut short. Vicktor watched Alex writhe on the floor, trying not to cry out. After a few moments, he released the button and let the remote fall into his pocket once again.

"Do not tell me what you will or will not do. You are not in control. Yassen has left you in my care and I am to get you on a plane as my son. I will incapacitate you and dress you myself if you will not do it willingly."

Alex knew the threat was not an idle one as he pushed himself off the hardwood floor. Though he knew arguing with the man was like arguing with Yassen, he could not bring himself to do what he said willingly. He could not admit defeat.

Snatching the bag of clothes from the assassin's hands, Alex strode to his room and slammed the door. He sat on the lumpy mattress and pulled off his shoes reluctantly. Vicktor had already dyed his hair and eyebrows much blonder than he was comfortable with had given him contact lenses that made his eyes look more blue than brown. A make-over was not what he was expecting from the Russians. Pain, yes. More training, yes. But having to act like a normal teenager with an assassin on a plane full of innocent people, no. Definitely not. Too bad he didn't have a choice in the matter.

Alex had woken up that morning to find Yassen gone and himself alone with Vicktor making breakfast in the kitchen. He had eaten little and watched the older man constantly, searching for a weakness. But he proved to be almost as unreadable as Yassen if not his equal. He had taken the same precautions that Yassen would have and did it all with his humorless grin. It was aggravating.

He had no idea where Yassen was, which made him uneasy. As much as he preferred Vicktor to Yassen for the company, he knew for sure where he stood with Yassen and that he would be safe. Vicktor was still somewhat of a mystery.

The floor creaked as Vicktor came to stand outside his door. "Little Alex, our flight will not wait for us. Either come out dressed and cooperative, or I will have to use this device again. I think you remember how unpleasant it can be." Though it was said lightheartedly, Alex recognized the threat for what it was. He would have to wait. Besides, the airport was full of people and he was sure there would be an opportunity to catch someone's attention if not get away from Yassen's twin.

The vehicle Yassen had left them was a minivan, inconspicuous and very unremarkable. The teen rolled his eyes at the absurdity of it. Who would suspect someone in a minivan?

Alex plopped in the front seat and buckled in at the man's insistence. His baggy shirt and jeans screamed rebellious teen and an oversized ball cap covered most of his face. If someone knew what he looked like before, they probably would not now. He had been told that one false move and he would be unconscious on the floor before he could utter a word. He didn't doubt it.

As they walked through the airport terminal, Alex tried his best to shuffle along beside his captor in his most convincing teen slouch. The hand at his back looked to be reassuring when in reality it was a constant reminder to behave. Despite Vicktor's presence, Alex surveyed the crowd to ascertain if there was an opening to get a message out. Most of the people milling about the building seemed too occupied with their own lives to take notice of the father and son. Alex would have to change that.

Ducking his head, Alex barreled straight into two girls who seemed to be about his age. One was tall and brunette with a nice smile, while the other was shorter with suspicion gracing her pretty face.

Mustering his thickest British accent and his brightest smile, Alex apologized profusely while holding out his hands as if to stabilize the two teens. He could no longer feel Vicktor's hand as he moved forward to engage his victims. Though they didn't seem to be his best hope, the spy decided he had to try and get away and for that, he needed the remote.

"So sorry, ladies, I have a habit of watching my feet instead of the beautiful view here." The girls blushed even though the compliment had sounded forced even to his own ears. Freezing the grin on his face, he leaned back, wrapping an arm around Vicktor and patted his chest with his free hand. "This here is my dad. He is taking me to see my mum in England. They don't get on, you know, but anything is better than a Russian winter, right?"

After a few more minutes of small talk, they went their separate ways. He had received some odd looks from the girls as they left, but he didn't care. That frivolous conversation had changed everything. Alex had his remote.

**ARARARARARARAR**

The assassin watched the five highly trained operatives exit the plane, their frat boy attire failing to hide their prowess. Even if Yassen had not been the one to train them, their agitated state and false gaiety would have given them away.

Having just arrived from a flight from Greece, he assumed that was the secondary location Sarov was using as his base until his plan was set in motion. In little less than a week, Sarov planned to destroy half of Russia, and with it, plunge the world into a darkness that only he could bring them out of, or so he claimed. The assassin had never questioned the general outright; he had just been an avenue to his real prize. Alex Rider.

Though he would rather be with Vicktor and Alex journeying to safety, he knew they could not just disappear without some of the recruits being sent after them. He had trained them, after all. Trained them to be ruthless, relentless hunters. He would show them first-hand what that meant.

His disguise was uncomfortable, the gray mustache and beard agitating his smooth jaw, as he hobbled on his cane toward the men. People pushed at him from every side and he barely had the ability to walk with so many people crowding him. That worked to his advantage as they paid him no notice as he crawled by and out of their line of sight.

The recruit in the rear was his first target. A knife hidden in the handle of the cane sprang out at the slightest pressure from his thumb, embedding itself in the man's back. He turned to continue walking away from the men as their comrade fell forwards, lifeless. Confusion started to spread as the man was shaken, as if to shake off the mask of death.

_Four more to go_, thought Yassen, smiling inwardly.

The recruits had no idea that the elderly man they had written off was the one who killed their _tovarish_, and that death would visit them soon as well, if Yassen Gregorovich had anything to do with it.

One died getting into the cab that was to take them to their hostel, the bullet severing his femoral artery. Another died of poison that night. Yassen left two so that they could go back to Sarov again to explain that they failed for the second time. There was the chance they would continue on, but after three deaths in a matter of hours, they were too paranoid to be successful in a mission regardless.

By the end of the night, Ares and Zeus were the only two alive, both nursing battle wounds from an unseen enemy. Losing most of their team should have caused them to run back to Greece to lick their wounds. Instead, their hatred for their teacher only intensified. Instead of it being simply a mission to bring back a brat, they wanted, needed revenge.

**ARARARARARAR**

The crowd pressed in on them from all sides. Vicktor had switched to a death grip on his arm, his strong fingers able to reach all the way around. And Alex was not a scrawny kid.

Even with the crowd, Alex was finding it hard to come up with an escape plan. The assassin had said nothing about losing the remote, but that didn't mean he wasn't just biding his time. For all the teen knew, Vicktor could just be letting him hold it because he didn't need it and wanted him to feel in control. The spy became more frustrated as his thoughts swirled in circles.

Then he saw it.

An expensively dressed woman stood to his right, her fur coat and ears drooping with jewels fairly shouting that she came from money. She was busy speaking to a security guard and had left her purse just sitting on the ground. Easy prey for someone who needed a diversion.

Alex smiled inwardly as he quickly snatched up the purse, making sure to graze the woman with it so she would know it was gone. He took off running to the sound of the woman squealing and pursuit. But Vicktor was faster than the security guard.

Shooting pain up his arm caused him to involuntarily drop the bag. Collapsing to the ground, his face his the shagged dirty carpet as he tried to take a breath through the pain. Vicktor and the security guard loomed over him as he fought to keep his eyes open and dismiss the pain. It let up, slightly, as the Russian man started asking him questions in a language he didn't understand. Vicktor conversed with the guard for what seemed like hours as the pain continued until Vicktor ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Cautiously, Alex felt around in the pocket that the remote should have been in. His fingers found the rectangular bulge. So how-

"Get up, Alex," commanded Vicktor in his best father voice. Simmering anger was suppressed in his expression as he hauled the boy up easily.

"Are they arresting me?" His innocent question did not fool Vicktor, whose scowl only deepened.

"They are taking you to question you. It is out of my hands now." He took Alex by the arm with his back to the guard. "Do not think that you have escaped, little Alex. Yassen will be here any minute to join us for the flight and I have papers that prove that I am your father. You will not try to tell these men the truth, or we will have to shoot you out of their custody. I do not think you would like their lives on your conscious for the rest of your life." He slapped his cheek patronizingly. "Think on that before you try anything else, boy."

The guard handcuffed him behind his back as the woman stormed up to snatch her purse from the ground before yelling insults into his face. He had gotten away from Vicktor, which was his plan. But as he was led away by the guard who looked to be very new to his job, Alex realized he had made a grave mistake. By getting caught, he had inadvertently put more people at risk. And he knew Yassen would not leave him in Russia. The only thing he could do was escape so he wouldn't put anyone else in danger.

The blonde teen was left in a small room that smelled stale. The chair and table were bolted down to the floor and a camera in the far corner sat stationary with dust blanketing it. Alex sat down moodily as if he was angry at being caught. He wondered who would come to talk to him.

So he waited.

And waited.

Two hours after being shuffled in, a short, burly man strode into the room, a file in his hands. He was wearing a guard uniform that looked to be too big, probably because of his short stature and a mean looking gun at his hip. There was no way it would be this easy.

Rough sounding Russian snatched him out of his planning as the man spoke to him in a harsh tone. Not understanding what was asked of him, the man switched to broken English.

"You-" The man stopped, trying to find a word and made a snatching motion with his hand.

"Grabbed?"

"_Da,_ you grab bag..."

"Yep," he replied in his best teenage attitude. As much as he hated having lost his childhood, it seemed silly to act like this. In some ways, he was happy he had missed this part of his life.

Meaty hands pounded on the table. The calm face had been replaced by one of anger. Too late, Alex realized how precarious his situation was. Though it might not be very difficult to get the gun from the man, getting out of the airport without being recaptured in a country where he could barely understand the language would prove to be more challenging. He was sure he could figure out a way to get out. But somehow Vicktor still had the remote even though he thought he had swiped it and he couldn't chance falling unconscious who knows where. Maybe Vicktor was right; it would be better just to wait. Yassen would not give up even if he did manage to escape.

Slamming against the wall, he realized that the man had been pushed too far. Stars dotted his vision as his head crashed into the cement again. With his hands cuffed, there was little he could do to stop the man without hurting him.

Not worrying about injuring the madman in front of him, Alex drew his hands up between the two arms and jammed his fists into the thick neck. Gasping, the teen was released for a moment before a forearm was pressed painfully into his throat. Harsh Russian accosted Alex as he was pinned to the wall.

Using his legs, Alex kicked at the man's knee caps, hoping to loosen the hold the man had on his neck. The Russian fell heavily on his knees as his legs collapsed and Alex quickly snatched the gun out of the holster.

Leveling it at the surprised guard, Alex backed towards the door, trying to put on his most menacing face.

A hand grasped the back of his neck tightly, causing him to drop the gun in surprise. A voice filled with menace and calm assurance told him to pick it up slowly. An aching pain spread up his arm as he bent to grab the weapon. A shot sounded above his head and he watched the guard slump to the floor, his eyes staring at him with confusion.

With a jerk, the hand stole the gun from the teen's hands and propelled him down the long hallway. Alex had to jog to keep up with the pace Vicktor was setting. Two more guards littered the ground, their faces blank.

"Why did you-!"

"_Nyet_, not now. I warned you and you did not heed my words."

"That guard was attacking me! I was just fighting back!"

Fierce eyes pierced into his own. "I said not now. Be silent or others will die. I am not in the mood to deal with your antics."

To onlookers, it seemed that a father was reprimanding his son, despite the handcuffs. If anyone looked their way, they did not for long after a menacing look from Vicktor. No one knew Alex was a prisoner to an assassin. Or no one cared.

Once back to the minivan, Alex was buckled in tightly and his restraints remained. The blonde assassin whipped out his mobile. Within moments he was talking in his native tongue to Alex assumed to be Yassen.

**ARARARARARAR**

Yassen had been awaiting Vicktor's call for some hours and had assumed his charge had tried testing his captor. They had missed their flight and could make only one more this evening if they were not already on the flight. _"Are you on board?"_

"_The package did not cooperate. We ran into some complications."_

A pause followed Vicktor's statement. "_Is it secure?"_

"_Da, tovarish. But the terminal is off limits."_

"_I see," _was the Russian's reply. He had planned for this in case Alex decided to be difficult.

"_Bring the package to the wharf. We will get ship it by another route."_ The line went dead.

Difficult, indeed. Vicktor was not one to be played the fool. Yassen trusted him with Alex's life. But nothing was ever easy with Alex Rider. Vicktor would be more cautious in agreeing to help next time.

The assassin got out of the cab and headed down the street to find a new ride. It would night before they all met up at the wharf. Little Alex would have to pay for causing problems for Vicktor.

Yassen smiled inwardly. He was enjoying having the teen around, if for nothing else but it made life more interesting.

**ARARARARARARAR**

**Sorry its been so long and I know people have given up on this story. But please review so I know if I should continue or quit this story. Thanks so much!**

**Cailean44**


	12. Turning Point

**DISCLAIMER: If wishing counted, Alex Rider would be my creation.**

**ARARARARARARARAR**

The woman sashayed up to him, brushing his arm with her manicured nails. The upscale bar was filled with the rich and powerful of Russian government with some spies interspersed. And he had found one that would be very useful to him.

"_Privyet_, handsome." Her smooth English accented with her Russian heritage rolled off her tongue like music.

"Do you have information for me?"

"Well," she purred, "I do if you have something for me."

Taking hold of her arm, in what looked to be an intimate embrace, Yassen looked pointedly into her eyes, the icy blueness reminding the spy how dangerous he was.

"Sasha, I will only ask once more. Do you have the information, or not?"

"_Da_," she whispered more serious now. A thick envelope slipped from her clutch which she handed to the blonde assassin.

"_Spaseebah,_" he thanked her in a toneless voice.

"May I interest you in some fun tonight?" Her hopeful gaze withered as his eyes never softened.

Without a word, Yassen moved fluidly through the crowd, leaving the hopeful girl standing desolate at the bar.

**ARARARARARARARAR**

Fox stalked around the room, anger rising, ready to explode.

The fact that Alex was now in the clutches of the most dangerous assassin was a problem. The crude bombs that Sarov had placed all along the Russian coast to finish what he had begun years ago were a very large problem. All of Britain's resources that could be spared were trying to diffuse the problem. And they were stuck being useless.

"Fox, ye know it is for the best," Snake drawled in his Scottish accent.

"I know it would be unwise to chance the soldiers seeing us and figuring out we are rogue. I get it. I just feel useless standing on the sidelines." Punching a nearby wall solidly earned him a glare from Wolf.

"Stop whining, Fox, or I will send you to Sarov myself and let him do with you what he will." The rest of his team sat in tense silence as if waiting for him to tell them he had hatched a plan. While that was tempting, he had been plotting in the time they had been benched, disobeying orders did not seem the right thing to do. Any plans he came up with only put his team in more danger than in a place to help. He was at a loss.

"I say we chance it," Eagle stated quietly. "How do we know they pegged us as traitors? Getting back into the organization could give us the only chance at stopping Sarov and rescuing Cub."

Grunts of agreement sounded around Wolf as he realized he was in a losing position. Anything he said would not be good enough unless it was taking action and finding their missing unit member.

With a growl, Wolf stood up, facing his team. "We cannot all go back; that would be too suspicious."

"I want to go back. I want to find Cub." Fox stared his leader down, not willing to accept anything but yes.

After a few more moments of mental debate, Wolf glared at his teammate. "Fine, but you do what I say and do not go AWOL. It will be you and me. Snake, Eagle, you will follow from a distance and hide out near Sarov's new base. If we are going to do this, we have to lie to our own people. This could be your careers, men."

"He's a teammate, Wolf. You would never leave any of us behind no matter the cost."

"Then let's move out. We have a spy to catch."

**ARARARARARARARAR**

Damp air clung to his clothes as Alex was propelled forward by a silent Vicktor. The assassin had not spoken since the phone call with Yassen. The car ride had been tense to say the least. Falling asleep a few hours into the trip was not hard when silence reigned.

Frigid waters lapped gently against the rocky shore as the luminous reflection of the moon overhead dotted the waves. Fog hindered the view of the lake like a filmy mask.

Mesmerized by the eerie sight, Alex was jerked to the side towards a small building. The teen had not even noticed it. A faint light illuminated the night slightly as the pair entered the dusty interior.

"Over there," Vicktor said, motioning to a wobbly chair in the corner. The door was closed and locked, Vicktor peering through the grimy windows, keeping watch.

Alex did as he was instructed. Deciding this would be as good a time as any to question his captor about the remote, he spoke in the most confident voice he could muster.

"Did Yassen have an extra remote?"

"_Da_, he had a fake remote."

Yassen would have realized that Alex would go for the remote; that would not have been hard to guess. "So you knew I would go for it. How did you know I wouldn't get the real one?"

A curt look was all he received, as if asking a dangerous assassin if he could make a mistake was so unbelievable.

"So you planned it?" Alex kept pressing, hoping to learn something, anything. "Did Yassen tell you to use the remote instead of physical force on me?" Vicktor's jaw muscles clenched as he continued to watch outside, but he forced himself to relax and show nothing.

Alex was pleased; he had finally riled Vicktor. "So Yassen doesn't trust you with me really."

The only indication that the assassin had heard him was one raised eyebrow…just like Yassen. Frustration mounting, Alex decided tact was not the way to ask for information when speaking to a cold-blooded killer.

"I-" Before he knew it, he was on the floor, but not from the remote. In what seemed like seconds, Vicktor had kicked the chair over and now stood over Alex with his foot in the boy's throat.

"Before you ask any questions, boy, let me be clear. I warned you to behave and now three people are dead. If you had done what you were told, we would be halfway around the world by now and you would be undergoing training by one of the world's best. You do not think and so are sloppy. If you spent more time listening and less time being obstinate, you would find yourself in a more agreeable situation."

Alex brought his fists up and tried to club the side of Vicktor's knee on his throat. The foot shifted as the man removed it from his neck. With a kick to the boy's middle, Vicktor stalked back to the door to keep watch.

All the teen could do was hold his throbbing stomach. The kick had not been that hard but was enough to drive the wind from his body. He rolled over so that Vicktor could not see his grimace of pain. Lying with his head touching the floor, Alex tried to relax and breath through the pain when he spied a small hole in the wall big enough for him to squeeze through.

Timing was everything; if he bolted before he was ready, Vicktor would be on him and probably sedate him.

Outside the purr of an engine sounded, drawing Vicktor's attention away from his captive.

Alex took his chance. Scrambling up, he half ran, half crawled to the hole and squeezed through before the assassin knew what was happening, ignoring his side as it flamed in pain.

The darkness embraced him as he slipped out. He held onto his pants as they slid down, his teenage attire making escape difficult to say the least. At last he was out of Vicktor's clutches, if only for a few minutes. Alex had no doubt that the assassin would use the remote once he realized his charge had slipped out of the squat building. He hoped whoever was driving to the wharf at night would keep him occupied just long enough for him to get far enough away to hide. Once unconscious, he would have no control where he landed. Falling in the middle of the road would not be hard to spot.

Russian voices could be heard arguing, causing Alex to quicken his steps. He knew his window was growing smaller as the voices ceased and footsteps could be heard. Another building a few meters away lay dormant and looked to be a good place to lay low for a while. Crouching, he wove his way carefully through the debris towards his target. Silence hovered thickly as he tried to stifle his loud breathing.

A broken door hung by one hinge appeared to be the only way in. Alex tried to make out any movement in the fog before attempting to open the fragile door. It swung open easily to his surprise, the hinge moving smoothly instead of with an expected squeak as he snuck in.

The interior was hard to ascertain in the dark, but the room appeared bigger than the frame suggested. As he shuffled towards what he assumed was the back of the building, a large metal object attacked him. Clamping his mouth shut, the teenage spy felt the cold bars of what seemed to be a leg of something much larger. Crouching down, he felt a tire attached to the end. Alex's heart raced. He assumed the leg belonged to a plane; only a plane had metal legs with tires to land. If this was a hanger bay, there could be a radio on the plane. He could radio MI6 and they could get an idea of his location! It seemed all too easy after all he had been through, but he knew he was wasting time he didn't have on overanalyzing this opportunity. Following the leg to the belly of the small plane, Alex felt his way to the cockpit door. From his estimation, the plane was a two person craft. With his hands cuffed together, it was a challenge to hoist himself into the small space.

Finally, he had reached what seemed to be the radio. He had seen movies where they used a certain frequency to get the attention of help without alerting the enemy. Yet movies are a far cry from reality. And as much as it surprised him, the actors didn't stop to explain exactly how to do it in a step-by-step tutorial in the middle of the movie.

_Quit being sarcastic and figure this out. Think of the solution, not the problem._

Pressing the button to the side of the handheld radio, Alex listened carefully before whispering into the receiver.

"Hello, this is Alex Rider. Anyone copy?"

Releasing the button, he listened.

Silence.

He tried again, speaking louder. "Hello, this is Alex Rider, can anyone hear me?"

Static met him once again as he sat in the dark cockpit.

"I believe it helps if you are on the correct frequency."

Frozen, all Alex could do was close his eyes in defeat as the icy voice washed over him. He should have known the only person coming to the wharf at night would have been Yassen. Anger at losing his first real chance to send out a message rushed through him. If he had known the assassin's location, he would have taken his chances fighting him at this point.

"You may exit the plane now, Alex."

Resentment flooded his body as he refused to speak or move.

Without warning, strong hands were grabbing his handcuffed wrists, propelling him out of the plane. His forearms took the brunt of his weight as he landed on the clammy cement.

Yassen had left the door open and Alex could now see the man's silhouette. Pushing himself up, he tried ramming the assassin in the stomach with his shoulder. Only he found himself skittering to a stop a few feet past him as Yassen sidestepped the attack. Anger mounting, Alex lashed out with a side kick aimed at his kneecaps followed by an elbow to the chest. Both were blocked easily.

Alex knew his chances, especially being handcuffed and exhausted. He was at Yassen's mercy. But as much as his mind told him it was futile, the more if fueled him to action.

After a few minutes of failed attempts, Yassen ended the match cleanly. Stepping behind a charging Alex, the man's arm went around the boy's throat. The grip was not enough to cut off his air, but enough to halt any attacks. Struggling violently, Alex pulled at Yassen's arm, trying anything to be released from the man's clutches.

"Be still, Alex," Yassen commanded in a quiet voice.

Deciding it would be best to let Yassen believe he was ready to cooperate, Alex stilled, his muscles still coiled for any opportunities at escape.

Vicktor seemed to materialize from the wall as he approached the pair.

"I would hope that you now understand how hopeless your situation has become. Your escape is unlikely," Yassen said impassively.

The fact that this whole scenario and his almost escape was probably a set up took most of the fight from the teen. He knew that fighting now would only make his eventual escape more impossible.

_I can't give in. I can't give up._

**ARARARARARARARARAR**

Ares cleaned his knife as he watched his leader pace the small hostel room. The frigid Russian air was welcome after their few days in Greece.

"That boy will die by my hands for all the trouble he has caused me," growled the burly man, glaring at Ares' calm countenance. "Sarov will soon lose interest and then I will crush the life from his body slowly."

Looking bored, Ares glanced at the assassin. "No doubt you intend to go after Gregorovich and his charge."

"You wish to go back to Sarov like dogs with our tails between our legs again?! We find them or die."

"Our chances grow slimmer as our numbers dwindle, Zeus." A dangerous glint lit the man's eyes as he reminded his colleague of their fallen comrades.

"It will be harder to track our movements with only two." Zeus shrugged nonchalantly.

Ares was not distressed about losing his teammates; it was the life of an assassin. You live and get killed. He knew his time was coming. But going after trouble seemed to tempt fate in a useless way. Taking their chances on Gregorovich seemed idiotic.

The fact that Alex Rider had outwitted them on multiple occasions and had caused his team to be disgraced was the only reason he considered Zeus' offer.

"Fine, but Gregorovich is mine."

A malevolent look took over his leader's face. "I know where to start."

**ARARARARARARARARAR**

The alley was cold and damp from the rain as she strolled briskly past dumpsters ready to be emptied. The moon cast eerie light on the path and strange silhouettes marred the walls around her.

Footsteps sounded from the end of the alley. She strained to make out the person walking towards her but could not distinguish anything but the panther-like gate.

"Was the package sent?"

Sasha licked her suddenly chapped lips as she tried to formulate words. "_Da,_ the package should have left by plane tonight."

Brief silence. "And the handlers?"

Stifling the urge to run, she took a step closer to the man, attempting to catch a glimpse of who she had made a deal with. Betraying an assassin was dangerous business after all.

"They are in route. They have the package safely secured."

The man stepped into the pale light. His handsome features and rugged appearance leaked danger and confidence. Sasha had found men of his nature had that in common.

"And their destination?"

She took a step closer. "My summer villa in Greece."

The man looked stunned for a moment before snapping himself back to reality. Gently taking her hand in his, he placed a light kiss on it. "Thank you, Sasha, you have been most helpful."

He turned to walk away, but was halted by her voice. "And what can I call you, for future arrangements?"

All she could see was his smile. "Fox."

**ARARARARARARARAR**

**So here is another installment. I don't really know where I am going, so suggestions and reviews are helpful and much appreciated. **

**Cailean44**


	13. Cocky, much?

**Hey everyone! I think this story is starting to move towards a conclusion….sad and happy day. I hope you guys have been having fun with this story as much as I have. Please review and give me suggestions. **

**Disclaimer: (Frustrated sigh) How many times do I have to explain I am not a spy-writing-genius. Thanks for rubbing it in…**

**ARARARARARARARAR**

The villa's majesty awed Alex as the rental car meandered up the winding drive way. He sat rigidly beside Yassen, Vicktor having driven stoically for the ride from the airstrip. As much as his motivation to try had diminished, he could not give up. He would not.

The villa soared towards the gloomy clouds, as if stretching to meet them with its wooden hands. The air smelled of countryside flowers and summer grass. If he had not been a prisoner to two assassins, he would have been awed by the sight in front of him.

Tall, Grecian style walls reached up to the sky, ivy snaking its way over the structure. The sea of green leaves rustled in the soft wind as the two assassins hustled their captive through a high arching doorway. Greek goddesses posed on either side of the doorway, as if luring guests in with their clear marble eyes.

Once inside, Alex could only think of the world rich. Everything was expensive, lush, and an obvious show of wealth. Whoever this mansion belonged to, Alex wagered they had an ego to match their check book. A wide staircase dominated the middle of the foyer and marble steps led to an exquisitely decorated landing before splitting into two opposing stairs.

Without any hesitation, Alex was led up the stairs, down a long open hallway, to a room that appeared to be 'Alex-proof.' He was on his own.

The room itself was medium in size, a double canopied bed dominating one wall and floor to ceiling windows taking up the adjoining one. The windows opened up to a balcony. He dismissed the idea because no matter what, the watch kept him captive. There was no escape with it on. Feelings of hopelessness surrounded him. How could he stop Sarov's plan without escaping from Yassen's clutches? He had to think of something. Anything. He had been given these odds before and still succeeded in his mission. There had to be a way.

Steeling himself to his task, the blonde spy looked through dressers, bathroom cabinets, and behind wall paintings for anything that could help him destroy the watch. Nothing presented itself. He tried the door handle, realizing it was a long shot that it would be open. He was pleasantly surprised when it swung noiselessly open. The assassins must think they are too secure to need to keep him caged. That would account for the choice of his room with a balcony.

Hushed male voices could be heard down the hall. Alex crept silently down the open hallway, making sure to keep his distance from the sides that would be visible from the first floor. He realized the voices were indeed coming from the rooms below. Slowly, he lowered himself to his stomach and crawled inch by inch towards the edge until only his eyes cleared the ledge.

Yassen and Vicktor were seated around an island within the largest kitchen Alex had ever seen in a home. State of the art appliances sat beside well-worn ones in an aesthetically pleasing set up. Browns, reds, oranges, and yellows mixed together to give the kitchen a summery, earthen feel.

Parchments with building plans carefully sketched were laid out on the island. Alex could not fully understand what it was they were looking at, but it appeared to be a factory of some kind. He tried to hear their words as his body screamed at him to relieve them from their cramped position.

"There is a back entrance hear and a roof entrance here. Either one would suit our purpose. The distraction at the front will render their defenses confused and leave us to stroll straight in unchallenged." Vicktor took another sip of what seemed to be coffee.

Yassen gazed at the plans a moment longer. "The back entrance is too exposed. They may leave a contingent to guard it even amidst an attack on the front gates. Sarov will be more clever than that. The roof must be our target. There is also-"

Alex failed to hear what Yassen said next as he felt an ease in pressure on his arm. Looking down, the watch had disengaged itself, whether by accident or not, Alex quickly shed the offensive instrument. Wiggling backwards, he made sure he was far enough down the hallway to not be heard and gained his feet. This was it! Since the wharf, the drugs had been longer in taking effect. Since they hadn't waited for the drugs to run out on his last watch, there was no way for him to know it would disengage when the drugs were gone.

Without wasting time, Alex shut his door quietly and moved to the balcony. The drop was not more than ten feet, easily manageable. The car they had come in was nowhere in sight. However, trees dotted the horizon in every direction about 500 yards away from the villa. If he could get to the tree line, they would have to track him in the forest. And it was getting dark.

Running free felt amazing after so much time in captivity. There were no signs that he was being followed or that they even realized he was gone. Alex was slightly surprised that Yassen had no known about the watch, but he was not going to wait until he did. Less than one hundred yards away from the tree line and Alex let loose. Once safely tucked away within the folds of foliage, Alex looked back. The villa was still with no activity in sight. Puzzled, Alex tried to push away his confusion. It had been so easy to escape this time. Did they just get sloppy?

Evening was fast approaching, so Alex pushed on a little longer, winding his way further into the forest. He was free. Finally.

**ARARARARARARARARARARARAR**

Fox smiled as he watched his teammate sprint for the trees. He had guessed that would be his move and had positioned his people all over the forest to make sure Alex found them. Very proud of his efforts, he smiled into the darkness. The assassins did not even know what happened.

Working within the compound for so long allowed certain people certain answers. Once answer he had stumbled upon, was a device to deactivate the watches. The small instrument fit snuggly in his hand. Slipping it into his pocket, he awaited for word that his team had rendezvoused with Cub. The only thing left was to stop Sarov and they could call it a day.

Sasha had been true to her word; he was there to witness the assassins walk straight into her villa, unknowingly walking into his trap. He couldn't believe it was so easy.

"Snake to Fox, target acquired."

"Snake, this is Fox. Read you loud and clear. All parties rendezvous at the extraction point. Over and out."

Fifteen minutes later, he stood in a glen where a helicopter sat dormant. He sensed more than heard Snake and Alex making their way through the trees and grinned as they approached. Alex was wearing a tired, but relieved grin of his own.

"Fox!" He rushed to embrace the man that had been like a brother to him through his time at Sarov's base.

Clapping the boy soundly on the back, Fox gestured to the pilot, Eagle, to start up the engine. Its purr and the whirring of the rotary blades drowned out any words, leaving them all in silence. Once bundled inside, Fox watched as K-Unit all joked and prodded at Alex, asking myriad questions about what had happened since they had been forced to leave him. It was good to have the team together again.

Once the camaraderie had slowed to the occasional question, Alex glanced to Fox, who he assumed had taken over this mission. "What's next? Where are we headed?"

Fox and Wolf exchanged glances. Sighing, Wolf decided to answer. "We have to stop Sarov, kid. We can drop you off at a checkpoint, but we have to finish what we started. We were hoping you would be willing to help."

Fox smiled as the answer was so apparent on Alex's face. "I was hoping you would ask. I have a score to settle with Sarov."

"Welcome aboard and get ready for some action," Fox commented, all mirth gone from his voice. "It's not over yet."

**ARARARARARARARARARARAR**

The compound was still. It almost looked abandoned except for the sporadic lights on throughout the buildings. Alex crept forward behind Fox, the five of them staying close to the shadows. The plan was to get in, find Sarov or at least the locations of the nuclear bombs on the Russian coast, and get out without alerting the base. Quick, quiet, and easy.

Somehow, Alex knew it was probably not going to go down like that, but the plan seemed to be solid. After eavesdropping on Yassen and Vicktor's conversation, they had decided that parachuting onto the roof was the safest approach. If it was good enough for Yassen, Alex figured it was a safe bet.

They made their way through the ceiling grate, down hallways, narrowly missing guards on rounds. The air was thick with tension, invisible hands seemingly holding their hearts in a vice-like grip. Alex could feel the blood pumping through his veins, loudly, obnoxiously so.

They halted their search when they came to a door leading outside, more building marring the evening sky like angry pikes. One building, alight with candles and voices stuck out. It looked more like a mansion than a warehouse. If this wasn't the building that Sarov was in, why was Yassen and Vicktor interested in it? Not liking where his thoughts were turning, Alex realized the team had decided on a course of action.

"Since the teams all know us, we don't have to sneak around. Alex, you will have a bit more trouble. Stick close to me and if need be, I will say I brought you in for Sarov. If they suspect you, take them out, quietly. Keep it clean and neat, boys. We don't need people calling the alarm."

Nods could be seen from each of the men. Setting out, each member spread out, walking confidently like they had nothing to hide. The darkness cloaked some of their features, making it easier to blend in when other men walking past gave greetings.

Fox and Alex reached the mansion first. Coming in from the back, the entrance led to a darkened hallway. One closed door to their left had amazing smells rolling over them, apparently making it the kitchen. Another open door to their right led to a vast dining room. Empty chairs sat sentry around the long wooden plank. The inky darkness pulled at the two as they continued to press on.

The pair arrived at a fork in the hallway. One went right and the other left. Deciding to go left, they proceeded to creep through the deserted hall. Fox, who had insisted on going first, failed to see the large fist appearing from a darkened doorway. He fell heavily, unconscious. Before Alex could react, two figures emerged, sandwiching him in between them. The brute behind him grabbed his arms, holding them behind his back, which the other stepped into the dim light.

"Hello, Alex. It's been too long."

Recognition and dread poured over the teen as he took in the individual before him.

**ARARARARARARARARAR**

**Any guesses as to who the pair are? There are two possible combinations…**

**I hope this was a good installment. I know it has been a while. However, this is the second to last chapter and then it will be done. Sad day, but I also have two other stories to finish…**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Some of you got me rolling again with your threats and requests. **

**Till next time **

**Cailiean44**


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